AFTERGLOW

 

Hunger harbours its hold
like a boat
bent on the scent of the sea
and we are bound
to the pull of its freedom,
its current crushing all caution
as we fall folly to its friction
on bended knee in benediction,
on beds of bodies bare and breathless,
tongues tempted towards taste,
buoyant on the bounce,
fast to the flesh, I want you,
you feel me, I will leave you
famished for nothing but more
and more and more, as I walk away,
still parched, still famished,
but never foolish
enough to linger longer
than the afterglow.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

BODY BOUND

 

I cast myself mesmerised
by your movements, the curse
of your curves as you covet
my consciousness, as you
unbutton my willingness
to submit, to sink between
these sheets of submission,
to succumb to every single
suggestion that oozes
from the aura you amplify
behind the clothes, beyond
the flesh. We are both body
bound to the other, unable
to ascertain who is handcuffed

and who holds the key.

All words and sketches by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspired by a 3 word Poetry Prompt “Cast. Unbutton. Aura” from #SenseWrds on Twitter

TRUST

 

Trust me
as I thrust into you,
as we sweetly
split the space
within the identity
that we identify
and the disguise
that we discard in corners
where clothes are cast aside
for more carnal concerns,
born in beds soon to be
bruised and battered
as we bare bodies,
as we bend bodies bare,
tongues tingling to taste
the tender flesh
fresh for plucking.
We tumble and turn
in throbbing thrusts,
in tantalising teases, swaying
to the sweaty surrendering’s
between soon to be scented sheets
and shaking shadows, shy and silent
until I cannot tell
your limbs from my legs,
your hands from my hips,
your taste from my tongue
and in between
we slave and sleep,
and in between
we worry and work,
but before it all
we lay and linger
and before it all
we kiss and cuddle
and I curl beside you
above you, below you, inside you
and even in parting
I still feel your hold around me,
feel your breath upon me,
your scent within me…

Trust me
as I thrust
as I trust in you too.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

The Long Kiss

Longing to kiss you,

Long

And slow.

But first-

To tease temptation-

I would trace my finger tip

Along the line of your lip-

To feel

What soon I shall taste.

I imagine, now

Alone in the recess

Of my craving mind,

How we would move in

Closer

And I’d feel the heat

Radiating from your body

As we’d both shiver slightly

In the unison

Of that sensory touch.

I’d stand so close

That you’d feel my breath

Caress

The tiny hairs on your chin

And,

As my nose brushes past your cheek,

I’d take in your scent

Before our mouths fall in sync

And our lips would meet.

Tenderly,

To start with,

We’d close upon each other-

Lost in exploration

Of curves,

Of warmth,

Of shape and flavor,

The moisture building-

And we’d be unable to say

If it was yours, or mine

Our ours

And then,

Relinquishing control,

I’d crave to nibble

Upon that perfectly formed

Lower lip of yours

That I could feel

Pulsating against mine

And so I’d bite it softly,

As if to test you,

To tease you open

So as to feel your breath

Entering my mouth

And ever so naturally-

Almost innately-

I’d breath it in

As if to claim it

As mine-

Tried and tasted,

Before my tongue,

Eventually,

May find your cupids bow

And lick its way,

Cautiously,

But with mounting hunger,

To the tip your teeth

And,

As my eyes

Pour into yours

And our bodies tremble,

I’d enter you,

At last,

And find your tongue

Ready to greet me-

As if to welcome me in

Further

And deeper

While,

Simultaneously,

My hands

Would trace their way

Around your waist

And under your shirt-

One hand working its way upwards

Along your spine

To pull you closer,

While the other would

Explore its way

To the heat

Below your waistline.

Longing to kiss you,

I am,

Long

And lasting…

photo-39

Break-Up Afters

 

It meant nothing and everything-

All at once.

It was filled with what you did not say

And every tale you eyes still told.

Was it too warm

Or too cold?

I remember shivering.

Were you the first

To light my cigarette-

Like you did so long before-

When everything was natural

And comforting?

Was it you

Who suggested

We should go

Or I who said

We should leave?

And then, there we were-

Naked,

So suddently-

I barely remembered the journey,

How we ended up there;

Not mine,

No longer ours-

But yours.

Creating the first soils

On your shiny sheets,

Pressing into them

That already soured scent

Of a past- recently thought expired.

All this within an apartment

So new

That the dust had barely settled

And so far removed

From everything renowned

As us,

That it was unrecognizable

As you.

You blindly found your way

Around my body-

Beneath a darkness

We both felt safe in-

Better than you found your way

To your own light switch;

So new was the home to you

Inhabitating it

And yet so familiar my every curve-

Even the ones gained in your absence;

Those sweet chocolatey replacements.

We’d messaged,

Met, made out, made love,

Measured up a home,

Merged, mortgaged, meandered,

Drifted, dived downwards,

Derailed, deceived, divided,

Divorced,

Forsaken, forgiven, forgotten,

Replaced the physical-

Temporarily and necessarily,

To scratch the itch

Until we resigned,

Released, refreshed, rebooted,

Before ridiculously tempting faith

And each other

And our restraint

With a little calling,

Uncalled for smiling,

A period of careful planning,

A suggestion of a drink-

Casual,

Quick,

Uncomplicated-

In rememberance.

And then,

In the blink of an eye,

We removed the past from our minds

And the clothes from our bodies-

Like all those years before-

But with so much more

Lying between us

Than just our salty skins-

Bollocking our way through break-up sex.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly