My body

my body has a memory
my body has a memory of you
my body has a memory of your skin.

My body

my body remembers
my body remembers how it bent
my body remembers how it bent to your beckoning.

And yet

my mind
my mind has washed itself
my mind has washed itself of your name

like it was no more than scum
to be scrubbed.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

This is a re-post

DOWN THE DRAIN

/ deuxiemepeau / 11 Comments

11 thoughts on “DOWN THE DRAIN”

  2. This poem makes me want to take the poet in my arms and say, not scum, just forget and ride the surf beneath a rain-washed sky. Sounds pretentious, but you get the drift 🙂

    Reply

    • Wisdom is in Jane’s bones and I’m grateful for it! And thankfully these poems are flashbacks from the past so, for myself, I can view them as Interesting flowers or weeds that once took their place in a bed in my garden but have seen been uprooted.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s