Which trails in gel-stiff tendrils down her back,
And yet I saw those dazzling stones in Claire’s
Half-price last week for gem-stud multi-packs.
Her feet are rubbed in shoes one size too small
For adolescent feet that grew out fast.
She dances past oblivious to it all,
And keeps them on in fear of broken glass.
Her make-up’s smudged, kohl shifting free with sweat,
She rubs it off and further stains her hands.
The girl’s a mess, but she won’t go home yet,
She’ll dance the dawn in just because she can.
And for a moment in the club that girl
Looks like the goddess of the modern world.
~~~~~~~
Well, I never thought my first post here would be poetry! I'm aware that there are a few references here that you might not unless you're aged 18 - 25 and live in Britain, least of all that Liquid is a chain of depressingly generic nightclubs. Paratext aside, I'd really like to hear what you think of it
