in retrospect, 1998-1999
something about the way the city felt – the gray skies over the liffey. the grafton street
shops of haute couture. the temple bar life of cigarettes and alcohol.
listening to the corrs – so young – blaring from a coffee shop at the corner of the street.
lighting a cigarette – silk cut [ultra mild] – il bacio and smoke in the air.
watching him move towards the bar, pints in hand. heineken and a bulmer’s cider.
the smell of the cold rain. shades of green. the waves crashing against the edge. white
foam, like extra cold Guinness. wine stain sunset hitting the tranquil sea.
just call it connemara blue.
sexy lead singer saving tonight, to make love to him, as she goes flying away she calls his
name.
photographing memories, capturing a time. a moment after which nothing would ever be
the same.
toasting to freedom. an evolution of the spirit within which life exists.
history bleeding colours on walls.
a complex kiss. struggling with reason.
faint trace of cigarettes and perfume on his collar. standing in the cold morning mist.
staring at the dying moon. the life of the rising sun.
sunday jazz. pints at noon. waltzing to blue skies. in the mix of black and white. city
lights, the bridge over the river.
connemara blue, moon struck stars.
sudden storms. echoing on the sidewalk.
kisses lose meaning. though the kiss remains. intangible. almonds.
the life touched. can never go back.
leaving the notes against grafton street, the coffeeshop discussions on loyalty, the life
lived even for only a second.
we walk towards the sun for that final moment. then it is gone.