Full Moon Rituals (excerpt from A Version of You) Upon Sihanoukville’s shoreline, I stepped out from beneath the pale light of my winter memories and I felt the warm breeze remind me of the curve in my thighs. I shook them to life against the radio station’s top-twenty cliché melodies. The mound upon my belly performed a speakeasy of one-too-many roast dinners that had been entangled within an endless story of winter. With three syllables running through my veins, I tenderly remembered that I had but borrowed a body in this lifetime that was not made of wool nor cloth. My body and I met as old friends beneath the bounty of the setting sun and merged together upon the sand. The party shacks sprawled out like a pleated skirt across the thigh of existence and I danced rituals of devotion that anticipated the moon’s arrival. There, I was reminded of my worth and gave birth to a reconnection of limbs, for I knew that I was but a child of the sun. The entire evening came and went like a one night stand whose betrothed morality had only returned to her with the broken breath of dawn. I looked, wide-eyed, at the waking of the world and solemnly wondered how long the moon would continue to chase the warmth of the sun. So quickly she did run back to him, despite the soft connection that the previous night air had blanketed the two of us in. Yet the moon and I were an unspoken lunar sin. She and the sun were tied to one another by prehistoric fabrics that could never be broken. The sun would never know that I could love the moon’s deep caverns just as well as him, that I could also sustain her life force… for I too had golden hair. Written by April Lee Fields

Danger Don’t you know we were two peas in a pod? I protected you from the world I was down and you was my girl But you don’t know me anymore We’re in danger of being strangers This distance it ain’t my nature We’re in danger of being swept away There’s a distance slowly growing There’s a picture gently showing We blink and the moments changed Don’t you know me? Don’t you know me anymore? Could you teach me? Could you reach me from your shores? We’re in danger of being strangers This distance it ain’t my nature We’re in danger of being swept away There’s a distance slowly growing There’s a picture gently showing We blink and the moments changed Don’t you know me? Don’t you know me anymore? Could you teach me? Could you reach me from your shores? We’re in danger of being strangers This distance it ain’t my nature We’re in danger of being swept away There’s a distance slowly growing There’s a picture gently showing We blink and the moments changed

Love Seas Hold me Hold me Hold me Hold me Last night I swam in his seas And I drank from his crown down to his toes Don’t you know how good you feel to me? Cuz im swimming in the seas of your love Ya got me singing in the breeze Bout our love I was swimming in the seas of your love Ya got me singing in the breeze bout our love It was dark and cloudy and his waters wrapped around me Beads of sweat rolled into the sea and I could not breathe I could not breathe I could not breathe Cuz I’m swimming in the seas of your love Ya got me singing in the breeze Bout our love I was swimming in the, swimming in the, swimming in the seas I was swimming in the, swimming in the, swimming in the seas of your love I submerged in a world where deep waters held me with care Where depths respected everything I gave And I was brave as I went under As you wrapped me in your thunder And these healing waters I became Rain was part of our everything We were sky, clouds, and all that’s green Encapsulating skies down the down to the seas My heart pulsated in frequency Awash in our harmony I was swimming in a love that truly sees Cuz I’m swimming in the seas of your love Ya got me singing in the breeze ‘Bout our love I was swimming in the, swimming in the, swimming in the seas I was swimming in the, swimming in the, swimming in the seas of your love

Civil Slavery (excerpt from A Version of You) Perpetual partying can really weigh heavily upon a dearly departing bag of bones. Juggling the last few weeks of my time in England had somehow become a circus within itself. Circles of social prospects breathed out fire upon the audience of my life. Affable bodies were charred with the black enigmas of Not Enough. Familiar pupils were widened by the amber glow of insatiability as the fire turned into gold, and their desires would always want more of me. Work commitments balanced on a tightrope above, wobbling and wavering under the weight of an evicted responsibility; they leaned with a casual carelessness that wore brightly-coloured socks, frizzy hair, and a clown’s red nose of redemption. The final organisational touches for travel were like hot potatoes in my hands. Connections; check… chuck. Travel insurance; check… chuck. Giving away everything that I had, except that in which I could take upon my back; check… chuck. My travel preparations were thrown out to the wind by scorched, ruby fingertips that had habitually pressed down 5am alarms with an ambience of the greater good upon them. The necessity in continuity of motion had never been more apparent. That Necessity sat in the quiet of the kitchen with me, though we did not speak. It was a necessity that wound its long, careful fingers around the sausage rolls of my packed clothing. Fabrics rolled their frayed edges back and forth between desire and need. As tenants of a retired, red Duke of Edinburgh backpack, my clothes were evicted for reconsideration without sentiment, before being submerged once more into the darkness, alongside fewer garments than before. There sat with me a soft necessity that needed to consider the versatility of numerous eye shadows and underwear. There were mermaid lagoon eyes that fought for a place against the unweighted nudity that I knew would also find my skin. Silky undergarments that were hungry for browned buttocks looked nervously up at me from atop their piles; knowing that my derriere also desired the undressed freedom of swooshing around in the commando jungle of liberation. Those same buttocks sat upon the cold tiles of my kitchen floor, a tiled floor that pushed cool air up into my skin, leaving me with cheap thrills. It was a tile floor that did not actually feel anything like a tile floor at all. It wore fake, plastic squares with diamonds pressed inside of their impersonations. Amidst my detailed daydreams, the oven broke the silence, attempting to heat away the fake that had joined me and the quiet necessity, for there was no real heating in my empty kitchen. Still, I began to defrost, and tried to entertain the idea that my destination could ever hold temperatures above the freezing English air. Winter held me captive, and the illusion of the sun mocked my subconsciously-packed woolly socks and jumpers. The Duke of Edinburgh rucksack laughed to himself with a fabricated tongue that hung down lazily beside a necklace tag; it read: ‘Destination Asia.’ I looked around at the soft walls of my little one-bedroom, bottom-story flat. My winter retreat. Our lovers den. Mould crept up the ivory walls like aged vines of untamed ivy. The Duke propped his scarlet fabrics up against the sofa bed like a drunk who had forgotten to pack his last legs… and sombrely, he looked upon the clothes that hadn’t quite made the cut. I admired the smallness of a kitchen that encircled me in the pit of its square belly and I rested my fingers upon its edges, as if to show quiet gratitude. I knew that my dreams had been born from that kitchen’s cold, plastic tiles. They had been summoned from the colourless kettle that lived a solitary life within its own quiet kitchen corner, where it birthed for us hot tea and dreams of warm summer skin. Together, we had eaten toast with Marmite in the early hours of darkness before work, and then toasted late into the night, when we had all eventually gathered our tired bones and returned home. There stood three fragile glasses that constantly touched towards our future adventures. They clinked with our unified desire to be reckless, to have fun, and to enter a life that was a far cry from the schedules and governing clocks of this one. In that kitchen, we cooked our Sunday roasts at 3am on a Tuesday evening and imagined our Great Escape. With one foot in this world, while the other dangled in another world of unknowns, my imagination began to sketch itself into the first pencil outlines of a reality. Winter ghosts chased away the cold draught of my transitions. The circus act of my fleeting life was a jester’s best work. Written by April Lee Fields

Freedom (Cover) Anthony Hamilton, Elayna Boynton Felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders Should I break or retreat and then return Facing the fear that the truth, I discover No telling how, all these will work out But I’ve come to far to go back now. I am looking for freedom, looking for freedom And to find it cost me everything I have Well I am looking for freedom, looking for freedom And to find it, may take everything I have I know all too well it don’t come easy The chains of the world they seem to movin' tight I try to walk around if I’m stumbling so come Tryin' to get up but the doubt is so strong There’s gotta be a winning in my bones I’m looking for freedom, looking for freedom And to find it, cost me everything I have Well I’m looking for freedom, I’m looking for freedom And to find it, may take everything I have Oh not giving up there’s always been hard, so hard But if I do the thanks lase the way I won’t get far. Mhm, life hasn’t been very kind to me lately, (Well) But I suppose it’s a push from moving on (Oh yeah) In time the sun’s gonna shine on me nicely (On me yeah ) Sudden tells me ’cause things are coming And I ain’t gonna not believe I’m looking for freedom, looking for freedom And to find it, cost me everything I have Well I’m looking for freedom, I’m looking for freedom And to find it, may take everything I have

The Lights are on (an improve garden party jam) (April) Hey oh It was a clear blue night and the stars were alight It was a clear blue night and the stars were alight And I could feel the satin rollin’ down my skin I could feel the satin rollin’ down my skin It was a clear blue night and it was on fire It was yellow and it was gold and it was blue and it was old It was blue and it was old It was a little bit of everything rolled into one It was a little bit of lightness mixed with the funk It was a clear blue night and I could feel it deep inside me Oooooh And I wonder could you love me And I wonder could you love me And I wonder could you love me (chanting) Could you love me? Could you love me Could you love me Could you love me? Cuz I’m a dove and I will spread my wings and I will fly And I will be so up there up in the sky And I will fly, oh baby I will fly (chanting) (Christina) You are the dove of eternal soul You are the dove of the dove of the dove You are the dove of eternal soul You are the dove of the dove of the dove now You are the dove of eternal soul You are the dove of eternal soul You are the dove the dove the dove now (Reeta) (chanting) She can only hold him for so long The lights are on but nobody is home She can only hold him for long The lights are on but no one is home He can only hold her for so long The lights are on but nobodies home He can only hold him for so long The lights are on but nobodies home (chanting) He can only hold her for long The lights are on but nobodies home He can only hold her for so long The lights are on but nobody is home (chanting) (April) Cuz she can hold him for long She can hold him for so long For for for for so long Cuz there was a time in my life when I would let myself be held There was a time in my life when I would let myself, let myself be held But sometimes you got to walk away from your grass And sometimes you got to feel that between your toes And he said baby I can hold you for so long And I can only hold you for long And he said baby I can only hold you for so long for so long And I said baby I’m a wildling You don’t need to hold me anyway Cuz I don’t got no time or day for you my lover don’t you know I said baby don’t you know That I can only hold you Baby for the blnk of an eye Baby for the blink of an eye Baby for the blink of an eye

Gangsta Girls (Reeta) Now tell me oh yeah Are you down with this And the game told me Ever since I was lonely Now only god can hold me Now you see I met so many men and it’s like they’re all the same yeah My appetite for lovin’ is now my hunger pain And when I’m feelin’ sexy Who’s gonna comfort me My only problem is insecurity Whats my motha fuckin name (April) Cuz im real The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you I’m real The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you Cuz I’m real The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you I’m real The way you… the way you (Christina) Be the sun Be the flower of the hour (chanting) Cuz I’m real The way you walk, the way you talk Cuz I’m real The way you talk Cuz I’m real, the way you are Cuz I am real, the way you walk, the way you talk, the style you wear (April) Oh me and my sisters used to jam to this We’d sit at home and eat chocolate biscuits cookies Drinking our milk and our cookies Wandering what would happen to us in our lives And we would think about the boys rubbing their hands up our thighs And we would try to be gangsta girls Gangsta gangsta girls Who ain’t got shit to deal with I put my hair in cornrows and I got a gangsta lean And I said ain’t nobody got shit on me Gangsta girls (Christina) Here we are raise them high Raise them high to the sky (Reeta) The way you walk, the way you talk, the style you wear The way you are, the spells you cast, you wear your hair Putting me under, under, under, under stuck asunder In your web tangled, tangled baby The way you are, the way you walk, the way you style your hair Cuz I’m real The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you are Cuz im real The way you are, the way you walk, the way you style your hair Cuz I am real (April) I am real and we’re some chanting gangsta girls I got my girl Christina on the microphone And she be bringing in ethereal cosmic zones And she is like a creature that you have never known, never known, never known And I got my sista Reeta singing soulful and the blues And she is lifting us up and she is lighting the room And we’re the SistaHood We’re some chanting gangsta girls Some chanting gangsta girls (Reeta) And I got my homegirl April by my side She’s sweet like maple but she makes your soul unwind Telling the prophecy that we cannot see Written in her diary Oh my SistaHood my SistaHood And Craigus McVegas and Craigus McVegas and Craigus McVegas (Christina) Yo… sister break it down with your funky sounds Shine that star Be that flower, bloom that flower

French Toast (excerpt from 'A Version of You.' When I think of flying, I think of white clouds that are impregnated with an air of anthropomorphism, their lining lightly swelling into the shapes of celestial creatures as I glide by weightlessly. When the thought of flight passes through my imagination, I then visit that special place in my dreams where anything is possible and a cool wind whips across my face affectionately; the rush of a tenacious breeze grasps the soft of my feathers and then pushes my plumes up towards the divinity of the sun without any fear of height. I see Peter Pan gliding through the sky with green tights, endless fun, and a white cloud moustache resting above his unaged upper lip… I see heaven and all of its ethereal inhabitants. I imagine myself close enough to brush past a myriad of wishing stars and feel their golden dust in between my hungry fingertips. I see ceremonial fairies bathing their wings in the pure blood of a rebirthed sunset and, to me, ultimately, flying conjures up thoughts of absolute and uninterrupted freedom. Written by April Lee Fields