The universe expands 1.3 miles per second,
like the body of a child growing day by day,
a baby, still learning what it is to be alive,
unaware of the ways his body works.
He does not think to wonder about the nucleolus sun
or the planets inside each plasma heliosphere.
He doesn’t know about the bacterium
swarming over his organelles,
reproducing even as his immune system struggles
with their pollution. Even when he stumbles,
skinning his knee the first time he walks,
he will not mourn the loss of countless solar systems,
but instead cry at the injustice of being small
and bound by the rules of such an immense
and ever expanding universe.