In a park

eyes straight in there boreing like a fracking machine, shattering the core to mine the energies you knew existed but the fragile earth had no idea I had in me. Once you've taken it, it's gone! under the awning of wooden beams resting against one another, pieced together by some lovers, lovingly attached by numerous screws. When you fracked me I leapt away, my skeleton bones cracking with shockwaves, the wooden structure around us spontaneously demolished, falling away, and felling their sturdy wooden bodies incapable of being still any more. The crash rumble of their toppling shakes the loveseat somewhat and we raise an eyebrow each above those fracking eyes, but return to business as usual. A couple of blinks, sure, but we'll never see this again, so it's important to stare and keep staring, whilst around, on the ground, new ecosystems develop at an alarming rate, and the pizza orders multiply, they are pies in the sky when the holding hands can't dial no more. Crass species' evolve out of the newly created dirt trenches all around, it rained a lot, apparently, as we sat there, and you fracked me, and the blistering sunshine made mad things grow wild and with gay abandon up and over the buildings that stood empty and derelict around us, the new creatures slithering and creeping around town hyper aware, eye things darting, our protectors, the invigilators of our exhibition. They howled and we wept without speaking, no words were in keeping, even when the fronds of huge new plants tipped over with their great unsteady weight, knocking your head to the side, still you fracked me at my core, unearthing more, upon more, flies screamed on our faces and still we did not blink, our hands clasped sinewy but radiating ultraviolet light that made the grass grow to 20ft high around us, their spines groaning in disbelief at their jurrasic selves. Our bodies decomposing and still we do not blink, but continue on our event, the atmospheric pressure changes over the lightyears raising our skin and hair and burning it off once it had been frozen, plunged into darkness and then bleached yellow, white, and still we did not blink. We became the ruins you saw in books about the prehistoric era, we returned there without moving an inch, and the new creatures came, sniffed us and left, again and again, but we never responded, the timeless statues that we had become.