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.
What day is it today?