My feet shift oceans
When I wade.
My fingers poked craters
In the moon when I tripped
Over the Shatsky Rise
Under a stroll to Oceania from

Eurasia. I eat from
Tectonic plates;  
Glaciers are my
Popsicles.

I shake fallen stars from my
Shoulders and walk on,
Earthquake by earthquake.
Interstellar breezes soothe the

Blisters from when I
Burned my head on the sun.
My arms can reach Mars, look:
Red bits of Olympus Mons and

Nereidum under my
Fingernails.

I leap lightyears.
I cry tsunamies over the fact that

You can't see me.