this isnt home & away you know you'll never be tammin sursok & im not even sure who id cast as you hate your waxed arrogance but we havent turned into digits yet have you noticed how a surf clubs transformed by childhood tuckshops free icees sunny boys how a girls smiles erased by the backdrop utterly fibro hopeless underneath a dead banksia tree holding eskimo bars gently like a riot of teenage freckles milky ways kiss & tells fad packets & secret crushes will you plunge down waterslides with me even though the mats are torn foam & the pools closing in about an hour maybe after that we could go down to the beach o-or watch the tee tree stream trickle down to join the waves observe the rip or feel for pippies with our feet ive got a bronze medallion now i can swim with all my clothes on just to prove it if thats not okay ill understand it was only ever a summer bay dream after all & you cant do that on television


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