The Not the First Date

She will…

wax and shave,
pucker and tuck,
pluck and pinch and pose…

Is it the fuck like a whore bra?
Or the girl next door bra?
Or maybe no bra at all?

If inventors were to be kind they would
make bras open at the front ~
a little ribbon to pull,
instead of the blindtwist guess,
after all, there’s no point setting him up
for a fall ~

tall shoes or flat?
Skirt long or short?
Or jeans?

Two mascaras or three?
Blusher, bronzer or natural blush?
Lipstick au natural, glosssss.

Check teeth, check smile,
check under, behind and (ahem) beneath…
Check, purse, check keys,

(check emergency condom)
and emergency “Get me outta here, mate!” on call…
Last check in the mirror ~
SMILE, criticise, SMILE, empathise,
‘Girl, there’s no way your bum looks big in this…’

Ballsy pre-date swig of gin,
pop on some bracelets,
pop on a ring…
but whatever you do

DON’T. 
Muss. 
The. 
HAIR!

He will…
pretend she shouldn’t have fussed.

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