Penny Wong pens a hypothetical love letter to Isaac Herzog.

I was a girl when I first saw you.

 I lived in a tent and carried my bullhorns. 

I spoke to the ocean, and there was fire in my hair and water at my feet.

 I was a meteor shower playing a lute sitting on the roots of a Moreton bay fig.

 I looked after children and elders.  

 I sat in the gutter in torn and dirty clothes.

My adidas shoes were code for the one who serves.

I ate every apple to the core 

There you were, an authoritative king riding on a dragon. 

With power in your hands and a sword like a phallus for the necks of the unworthy.

I fell in love with that power.

 With a crown on your head like a hole, you rode to victory like a falling star. 

You cracked the eggs. 

You ran them down. 

Your eyes were shining like dollar signs.

Your hair an augmented reality. 

. My butter and bread, you were hiding behind a mountain of your own self-satisfaction, yet I found you.

 My water and salt, you were walking, unbound, with colours for feet.

 My red beans and rice, My big fish. You swam towards me

It was then I knew the moon was fake.

It was then I knew.

  Let the dead bury the dead you said. 

You mealy mouthed, butterfly catching genocide denying beauty. 

You gifted me a mirror that told me who had the prettiest strings of all. 

I gifted you my soul and turned into a puppet.

How I melted in your mouth.

 Tell me who and how I am I begged of you

I fear when you leave I will fall to your feet.  I fear when you leave my arms won’t work.

A girl who dreams of kissing the hand that strangles them.

So let me fub myself up against the time

Rub it raw.

Tomorrow I will wake up and stare at the bullet casing you gifted me

Tomorrow I will wake up and stare at a war.