She is…

She is a vintage ballgown bought in the sale in a charity shop
She is the cold National Express coach leaving Leeds at 8am
She is the long, lean standard lamp lighting the room
She is blue WKD and cider and shots until three
She is the dancefloor
She is exploding, fizzing lavender bath bombs
She is emerging from her room at four in the afternoon
She is the belting karaoke rendition of Dancing Queen

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