If I were in quarantine, here, by myself,
I’d read all the biographies stuffed on my shelf.
I would skip the alarm, sleep till a quarter of twelve –
if I were in quarantine here by myself.
If I were in quarantine, here, all alone,
I would call every contact stored in my phone,
and watch all of the “Blue Bloods” that ever were shown –
if I were in quarantine here all alone.
If I were in quarantine, here, with just me,
I’d ditch all that makeup no one would see,
favor sports bras and leggings, totally free –
if I were in quarantine here with just me.
If I were in quarantine, here, without you,
I wouldn’t care where I dropped my shoes,
I’d sneak bites from the table for you-know-who,
and snooze in the chair where you always do.
I would try to watch comedies all the way through,
and pull back the covers on your side, too.
Andrea Doray is an author, poet and essayist who advocates for free speech, freedom of the press and funny stories. She lives in Englewood.