The Viewer

The ant subsides, sinking into the rouge suede

Minatare sticks clinging to the shoulders, spread, gripping on the arms, while the miniature stuck rattling at the hips, flicker before the feet possess every means to restlessness

the back too relists arrest, erect in the oxygenated aroma, gushing past the spiked vertebrate, a red flagged whisper.

The creature shook, gripped, and froze,

Before the mighty large, life-altering beholder under a black slate towered

Hurdles of rouge over rouge, beside rouge, across rouge, swelled into the pit of darkness,

For the florescent eyes dimmed, preparing for the new opening

Miniature sticks clung to the shoulder and miniature sticks rattling at the hips endured a body shocking trickle ghast up and over.

Then they banished to the underground, from left to right, to front to back, to right to back to left.

If the organs moved with their pace, hyperventilation and bodily shocks would sure prevail

Plummeting as loud as a body dropping from a bridge, till only remained the one rouge sued

Dark blankets inclined, darker walls rounded

Only the slate and the creature were

And as the slate spoke, moved, lived and was

The creature was silent, still and viewed

Allowing their erect back to straighten in the centre, grip to loose and feet to fall,

For a face reached out and spoke, “stop, come here, listen, live through me,”

A gentle breeze replied, “I’m here and I’m there!”