
Lizbeth dressed
in her favourite
short dress
knowing her mother
would disapprove
and would lead
to her mother's
usual moans about
looking like a tart
like one of those dancers
on that TV pop music
programme
and what would
the neighbours think?
Lizbeth stared at herself
in the full length mirror
looking at red hair
her freckled skin
which she loathed
and how the dress
was getting tight
about her
how it showed her
shapely figure
which she did like
and her mother didn't
and thought of Benedict
at home in
his village cottage
with his parents
and siblings
and she hoping
to cycle out
to see him
and maybe
if she was lucky
get him
to get down to it
-she had tried
many times before
but with no success
- even in the small church
where no one
ever visited
he wouldn’t get down
to having sex
saying it wasn't
the place
and then another time
in his bedroom
where he took her
to show her
his animals bones
and bird eggs
and fossils
in broken pieces
of chalk
and it was there
behind them
his double bed
already for them
but no
she was till a virgin
and even here
in her own bedroom
she brought him once
and still he wouldn't
have it
even though she'd
almost stripped off
her clothes for him
O how boring
he could be
and she gagging for it
so much so
that she was tempted
to go it alone-
as seen in
the sex book
a girl at school
had lent her-
but no
she wanted Benedict
no other boy
just him
and down stairs
she heard her mother
singing along
to the radio
some classical
music stuff
her mother's voice
croaking above
the music
like an unhappy frog
she lifted
the short dress
by the hem
to see how short
it could get
before her mother
would take it away
from her
and give it
to another
she raised it so
she could just
about see her
white underwear
and smiled
and said
to herself
there
yes there.