The large form looms in the darkness of another dimension
In the dark world's center where the ground is like mirror
It's a small pink creature serpentine and messy
it flips and grows distorts and comes back to it's form
It curves itself around to form words
No voice box to create the sound from
It flattens itself out to taste food
No teeth to break down the matter
What it really wants is another tongue to wrap itself around
No lips to join opposing ones fusing the desire to meet
But for now it remains a tongue
Growing disporportionately in the darkness
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