Millenia
one day, one day.
One day.
what you know!
A hidden burial chamber, a cosmic bus stop, looks out plainly onto the open sea. Plainly looks out. Looks out plainly.
Turn the corner, deep.
Propped up on precarious needlepoint for, oh, I don’t know, five thousand years give or take
Striations, webs, patterns. Millenia creep across
and within, splitting, crossing, cracking
minted sage green delights
as it crashes and cuts
scarlets magentas crimsons.
A flash a flutter a dash.
Self preservation. FEAR
Skyward then down.
Turn the corner, deep.
Safe
Safe
Safe
Safe
Creeping forwards. Millenia turning. Turn. Turn corner. Millenia. Five. Five. Plus five. Five!
Hip hip, hip hip, hip hip, hip hip, hip hip.
Brittle glass shatters. Shards shed to sand.
Rotten wood splinters. Embers burn to ash.
Faulted rock cracks. Slabs crumble to dust.
The sea. Oh! The sea.
Four flashes. Fifteen seconds. Four flashes, fifteen seconds. Four flashes, 15 seconds. Four flashes 15 seconds. 4 flashes 15 seconds, 4flashes 15seconds, 4flashes15seconds, 4flash15seconds, 4flash15sec, 4f15sec, 4f15s, 415.
The sea. Oh! The sea.
Beneath, besides, atop this ancient slab, its precarious needlepoint reassures, “Millenia”.