Retrograde ripples
swim me back to days
when a certain light could cut
the shadows in a single movement,
when your touch was like cool water
poured over feverish flesh below orange
walls that watched us sinking onto a single soul.
Terracotta tempered
with summer shadows
as streets twist and turn,
as I twist and turn and burn,
even in the shade, with shadows
and shades of you and those days
now reduced to simply recessive ripples
slouching towards the bottom of a city sinking.
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Photograph taken in Venice, Italy
Audio version available on Soundcloud
Damien B. Donnelly 
Love this.
Thank you Jane and thanks for the reblog1 I’m just sitting down with Tully and Carla now- only starting but I grossed already!! X
If you’re grossed at the beginning, you’ll be needing a sick bucket by the end 🙂
Reblogged this on Jane Dougherty Writes and commented:
I do like this poem with its rippling memories.
Oh no! I wrote engrossed but spell check flipped it!! I’m so sorry! In engrossed!!! Captivated!!