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It was that kiss that did it

Blew away my misconceptions about lads,

About fancying them that is...

About wanting to be their ‘girlfriend’.


Tracey was trouble with a capital T.

Tall, tempestuous, a truant and a tease.

She cut a swathe through all the boys,

Discarded them like broken toys.


I was twelve, she was sixteen...

And a walking, talking living dream.

I was bored with secondary school,

I preferred dancing and playing the fool.


On that day she noticed me,

Said she’d teach me how to be

A femme fatale like she was.

The first lesson was kissing...


                   Trudy Howson   LGBT Poet Laureate (2016-19)

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