18.47     Sophie’s bedroom, Station Lane, Brandon

She lays out her clothes
On the bed
Then the shower
Wash her world clean

Bathrobe-wrapped
She dries her hair
Drying gently
Brushing carefully

And in the mirror she sees
Herself

Clothes drape as they should
Shape as they should
Will she? Won’t she?
Depends what he’s like

And in the mirror she sees
Herself

She puts on her face
With just
Her Self
Looking back
Until

On her left shoulder
Grinning and whispering
“You look good”
And she smiles
Until

On her right shoulder
Grinning and whispering
“You look shit”

She smudges her lippy
Baby-wipes the smear
As left and right, good and shit
Drip their words, soft and loud
Just as they do
Every time its

Durham Friday night
She is ready
For the lasses
With her grinning voices
That are hers
Alone

The lasses laughter will shut them up
The Head of Steam will shut them up
The Champagne Bar will shut them up
Love Shack will shut them up
They will, they will, they will, they must.
They do.

Too drunk to speak
The voices snore with Sophie
They’ve had a good night

As for Sophie