In absence
lips lean out
in longing,
clouds gathering,
a chill in the air,
the warmth slipping.

Memory is a playful thing,
you tease and turn
over and back to before.

We kissed,
I feel it intensely,
I see it clearly
in the mirror
still marked
from a night now over.

Cold showers
call out
from the falling rain,
seasons come and go.

Moments linger longer.


All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

This is a repost for a week of looking at clouds 

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