this place of child me holiday council–town–by–the–sea sixties cheap estate mud decorated walls
the cliff stair descends into sand the grubby clean beach paranoid watching men dog walk boys charge run–rattle puttputt bikes
for a moment i’m stolen loud sings the swelling sea its siren sound surround the glamour of end
i turn my back to that it’s not my time to answer the sea rolls like drums roll one day i’ll belong
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