The Moment of a Centimetre

The Moment of a Centimetre

"Gravity is a myth: the Earth sucks."

White noise bursting through
the space between dreams is when
the scalp expands. Some have been known

to sneeze, as if the act of stretching
strummed the nostril's strings.
Heel and ankle bones interrogate

the pliability of flesh and the value 
of a pumice stone. Knees exhale.
Bulimic cartilage chow down on sleep

as burns between the toes recall
dormitory pranks involving
tissues and a few swiped matches

struck in a huddle of shush.
What you wouldn't have given then
to steal and stack an inch or two,

to hurl a larger frame along
a corridor of sneers. Where they go
these millimetres we squeeze

from a paltry night of slumber
remains just one of many mysteries
we carry around skin-wrapped

and writhing in sense.
Stapled to the back of yesterday
a shorter you on tiptoes fades to black.

~