Stretch

I stretch quite strenuously sometimes.
I try to trick my body into thinking I am actually made of elastic.
An ambitious goal, I acknowledge.
My arms encircle myself once, then twice, then three times.
I become so entangled in my own limbs that I must wiggle and shake all about to free myself;
Side stepping an arm here, hopping over a wrist there, careful not to step on my fingers.
Then my arms hang loose and long at my sides for weeks, ridiculous and rubbery looking.
But each time they snap back…I feel a little stronger. And my arms feel a little longer.
Closer to reaching you.