at times am overwhelmed
about nothing
just sitting there alone
by the lagoon
and watching the foaming brine
bring in debris of all kinds
or taking a walk
on the dark side
and i cross the road
where the motel was
and see comfort workers
still hawking their stuff
but i turn and walk on by
at times like that
i recall your first cut
the times we necked
at the lagoon front
the things we did
at our heavenspot
you touched me in places
i didnt know exist
and i took you on journeys
that i cant now revisit
saw you now all
married and proper
a vicar's wife
fitted for the role
like the thread fits the needle
i begin to doubt if
it all didnt happen