i’m 16 somewhere pacing it toward a field. my arm is in J’s and the rest are behind us. this field up ahead is the field, we know it’s the right field this time cos we’ve been walking 20mins since the station and we can see six squares of light suspended in the horizon, shadows dancing in and out of them. it’s a tenner in theory but someone takes us round the back stairs which aren’t really stairs but smell of frankincense so it makes up for it. now we can hear the music like its coming from inside us. now there is a girl i vaguely recognise on the floor, year ten I think, staring up at J like she’s Beyonce or something. J laughs at her like she’s too buff for this mess; she is. the guy I sort of came here for is dancing behind a girl who told us at the beginning of the night she’s baking cakes in the morning so she can’t stay late. but it’s nearly 3 and I think he’ll be going back with her anyway so I better forget about it. when she dances, he looks at her like she’s burst wings out her shoulders and in spite of myself, I know it’s sweet. the old guys in the hall tell us they’re just here for the music. J says us too. now me and J are laughing so much we nearly fall down the sort-of stairs and she grabs my hair and asks if she can tell me a secret – she’s just started watching girl on girl. I think now is the moment, the one I’ve been trying to set up for ages so I tell her I’ve been loving her ever since – she covers my mouth with her hand. tells me it will pass.
written in zia’s workshop after a polarbear poem called jessica
aisling 