As I was watching the clock,
the little gray one in the corner,
I thought I saw the hands falter
at one.

And when I blinked again,
the clock I could not see,
for it had blended in with
the night.

Time warp-wraps around me,
tendrils pulling my hair
and floating across
my eyes.

Like dragonfly wings,
an iridescent sheen
plays behind my eyelids
unfocused blur

But when I look in the periphery
I see my tangled self and
the short days blending
all together.

Like milky cataracts
quarantine is blinding.
And so begins
quarantime.