the best time.

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think about the best time you made love.

me and marek, outside during a thunderstorm. we have wriggled out of our sleeping bags and i am sitting on top of him. when the lightning flashes it shows off against our wet skin. everything is slow and sensuous. the girl sleeping near to us moves in her sleep and bells go tinkling amongst her dredlocks.

the redbreast and me, after coming home in the morning from a party. we have taken MDMA and our eyes are still huge, like tablespoons. by this stage of our trip and indeed our relationship we play a double act; he is Pavel and I am Anya. We re probably from Siberia, but we re not sure. it has been an immense night, i have spun fire on the balcony of this student party, we feel like the coolest kids there, we talk about all the things we usually dont allow ourselves to talk about. there have been tears too, i dont know they came from. a long walk home in the sunshine and then the comfort and safety of his room at the top of the house. ‘I love you Pavel’ ‘I love you Anya’ as he is floating two metres above me and i m clenching myself to pull him in deeper.

Paddy, on the recording studio floor. was that the same night we put one bottle of red and one bottle of white into the same winejug and all drank from it? its not surprising i dont remember. R is passed out and snoring and we are guilty and sheepish for making out next to him, but that makes it so much better. There s part of me that wants him to wake up. the cymbals of the drum kit above our heads move like bells in dredlocks.