At ten am, kids safely dropped off at school,
we swarm to the club, slurp into neon Lycra,

elbow our torsos through womb-tight
tops, fold tums and pull bums

into leggings that squish
like a grope in the dark.

As studio lights dim, we lose
our limbs in dance anthems.

A Disco ball spins a kaleidoscope
round our brains like Tequila.

And we wave our flashing glow sticks,
parade across the vinyl tiles;

not caring if we step out of time.



Mims Sully is from Sussex, England. Her publications include Prole, Obsessed with Pipework, Strix, Trouvaille Review, Amethyst Review and Pulp Poet’s Press. She’s been long-listed for The London Magazine Poetry prize and is currently putting together her first pamphlet of poems.