Here without
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.
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Andrea Doray is an author, poet and essayist who advocates for free speech, freedom of the press and funny stories. She lives in Englewood.