Mine is a body beholden to chaos. To interferent intimacies, to reels in Knightsbridge churches, to hands held, friends kissed, beds occupied and fallen into and out of.
Life has become one neverending succession of sprints between tube stations, Uber rides between half-done functions, drunken, sloppy goodbyes for fear of missing the next hello— I thrive at large dinner parties, at 4am queer New York dive bar sing-alongs— wherever life spills over loud and raucous and plenty, I thrive and still