Late-Night Thoughts on the Intimacies of Queer Friendship

Late-night thoughts on the intimacies of queer friendship I uncovered through making Cowboy Dreaming with my two wonderful friends, Emily and Gracie. I’m super grateful they brought me into the project and I have learnt so much from them. Inspirations, always.

Cowboy Dreaming. We said it would be a dig. An archeological excavation. The show was (and we were) there, buried in the ether, waiting for us to mine through the bits to find it. We could never make something other than this. Only this one show was predetermined for us to discover by finding who we three were together, in this time and in this race. I’ve learned and loved so much. What twisted joy to bear witness to. Discovery of creation, sieved alongside two greatest muses. Mind opened, heart shifted. I do know love, after all. I can’t sleep because I’m too excited for what’s next. 

When the tumbleweed stills, the dust devils drop and petals ashen, what do we do? When dreams drown us out, lovers ride off and demons howl and chortle, who can we be? Who dare we love? In that moment. You know the one. That icy tick-tick-tick. Tightening grip. Slowly, slowly, all at once. Ten thousand lassoos. Writhing. Faster than a poison chalice. Slow as unfulfilled yearning, spread through eternity. Choking the heart like that cold dead leather. In that one moment. Be everything or shy away from the rodeo. Split. Multiply. Transform. You can no longer conduct the melody but you can obliterate the tune. So you do it. Smear, smash, lace and lick, laugh, cry; hold tighter, hold tighter. Hold me tighter. Press into me. Around, between, entwine, combined we can be. We can love again, anew. In that moment we can be twisted. Can be beautiful. Be love. Queer. Find me. Found you. Intimacy not confined to romantic duelling, gently discovered in the gritty soft underbelly of a friend. The other toss of that dirty sweet coin. Your own Horcrux, forgotten in creation when you embedded it in this other sweet love. And so you fly. Together, in the gusts and gales, scraping crawling dragging each other through to the next god-awful moment. Siren song. The next oasis. One another’s mirage. Divine inspiration made flesh, burst free, wrapped, around me. Wrap around me. And hold tight. Always. Hold me. Hold me that little bit tighter than I think I need. Hold me as we toe that line, side by side. A journey’s ride. One night, a thousand intimacies. Joy. Heartache. Headache. Terror, Battles and Breath find Trust. So vulnerable and suddenly, so easy. Right. Free. I’m over-explaining to not understate what this means. Companionship in friendship. Love, without that word, because that one word that one image cannot Dalí itself into the infinite looks we hold. We feel. Shared. Hold me tight. Hold me. Tighter. Set us free.

Cowboy Dreaming is on at Basement Theatre from Tuesday 27 February until Saturday 2 March. Tickets are on a ‘choose what you pay’ model and available via iTicket.

Featured photo courtesy of author.


In a dream, you saw a way to survive, and you were filled with joy.


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