Evolution.

By the end of today

I'll attach a gravity to several things

Banal, flighty, uncontained

And let them sink me down

Where the fish bones keep

Where the sea is deep

Rich with a thousand million tiny monsters

Too prismatic for chance

By the stroke of the hour

I will make new bones

And drink all the saltwater I can find

Effluent will pour from my mouth and the plants

Will make me green

I am full up

My muscles and the built up waste

Let nothing pass my cavity

Except oxygen, ions, bare essentials

Whirling around the knots of my musculature

Screeching into electrical balance

By the end of the year

Two things may occur:

I will be porous and brittle

Supported by the network of spongy skeleton

And pierced all sides by water

Or perhaps, more likely

I will exoskeletally reinforce my skin

And spit wax on the ground and burrow

The final split is never far

It is ever ongoing