autochthonous

he's been planted on the sea above tiny many stones over melted fire 
I saw him moving continents apart once 
unaware but certain
he's been held a god it might be a good thing 
to keep him here

little pieces of thinner dust such thick transparent layer of air
inhaled by breathing parts of him crumbled
turned into strange water
he's in my lungs I think I'm 
wetlands now
unaware but certain I'd like 
to keep him here

will it absorb 
or will it dissolve

I've been planted on the dry conceive of making it clean
if he asks me to seed I will take the breed
spread it open to him over riverbeds 
my current streams have ever been cursed
my current drops into the ocean

we are flume with mud and yearn
we are set to burn