On Brighton Pride

St. James’s street. Darkness pocked with electric yellow. A narrow road, crowded in by three storey brick buildings.Every other shop front blasts music and sells drinks. From the hair salon to the ice cream parlour.

The street is filled with tattoos and tight white t-shirts, boys in sailor suits with their arms in the air, and girls in loose vests, short hair curling in the nape of their neck. I am crushed by sweaty, friendly flesh, pressing into me.

Bodies and rainbows everywhere. Rainbows in garlands and face paint and striped hair, and enormous billowing flags worn as capes and dresses and tucked into handbags. All of the faces smiling, bodies thrusting and a thousand voices shouting along to the music. It bounces off the windows and the walls and wraps you up in a safe place. Everywhere you look, mouths make the same shape, speaking with one voice. Whatever the words they sing, what I hear is, ‘I belong’.

Advertisements

  One thought on “On Brighton Pride

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: