Squirrel scuttles across the sea of grass.
Stops to my right to consider someone else’s acorn.
Mouth twitches to mimic tail before I’m noticed.
Embarrassed by my presence he adopts a still stance
as if that might make him invisible.

Don’t worry, I whisper, I can relate.
Once I found lips too sweet to miss and kissed them.
There in the open. Knowing they were not mine.


All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly



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 



And you
were gone
and we,
and you
and I
were off
and running
in different
in search of

and you
were gone,
the day
and duties
chores into
far from
the comfort
of beds
where bodies
were bare,
where tongues
touched thighs,

where fingers
found flesh,
where lips
the lies
we tell
each other
that time
will last

and you
were gone
and I was
had been
la petite mort,
by all that passed
in the passion
and parted
with the dawn
with your sweet
sweat still
on my sheets.

All Words and Ink Drawing by Damien B. Donnelly


There are questions
never answered
and lips
never kissed

There are moments
never mastered
and truths
never told

There are trusts
never broken
and those lips
that still persist

There are dreams
never woken
and those ideals
now growing cold

There are tongues
never tangled
and hands
never held

There are deceits
never dangled
and lips
forever missed

There are bonds
never broken
and desires
never quelled

There are truths
never spoken
on those lips
that never kissed.


All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio recording available on SoundCloud:



The Long Kiss

Longing to kiss you,


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


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


The tiny hairs on your chin


As my nose brushes past your cheek,

I’d take in your scent

Before our mouths fall in sync

And our lips would meet.


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,


May find your cupids bow

And lick its way,


But with mounting hunger,

To the tip your teeth


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


And deeper



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,


And lasting…


Italian Thoughts


You washed over me today-

Darkest hair, hazel of eyes

And that lower luscious lip-

As I retraced those steps

From a lifetime ago

And found myself

Lost again-

Like all those years ago-

When I’d first fallen

Upon this Sea of a City,

Back when your heart

Had begun to feel

More like mine

Than mine itself.

I’d walked that narrow walled city

That day

As gallant green waters

Glistened along side me

And I listened out for the ghosts

Of past parties

In Taffeta skirts-


And with masked faces-


Before I stopped,

And by this very bridge,

I called you

And told you

I’d fallen

And thought nothing of those rushing waters

Beneath me-

Their movement,

Their depth,

Their current-

How far they can take you

From the shore.

I thought us to be as inseparable

As Gondola from Gondolier

And yet we sank

As surely as the City will itself

One day,

Some day

When time itself has forgotten all about

The lovers who laughed

And loved

And kissed

And promised-

Just like us

Before the waves washed us over

And around

And in between,

Before our hands let go

And you slipped away to dance through other lands,

In other hands,

That Time and Space that time has almost forgotten

And yet,

Do you know-

There are times

When my lower lip trembles

With the memory

Of your kiss

And the weight

Of your heart

When I wore it?

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly