in a quarantined life,

your dreams become routine.
once rare rainbows are now
as common as windows.
like a tooth loose
inside the mouth,
internal screams
seem to echo
even louder

in a quarantined life,
grinding teeth
kicks off migraines,
a muted response
hardens the heart
and clanking bottles
sound like prison bars.
but it’s the silence in-between
that really gets to you

in a quarantined life,
frayed jeans drag along
a thousand-mile floor.
you’re back to doing laps
on checkered tiles
down town centre aisles:
trapped, confined,
suffocated, undefined,
chest tight, skull binding

in a quarantined life,
you fear the worst
by speaking these verses.
scratching thirty years
writing for the blind;
all passion resigns
in a puzzle of likes.
time with friends – feeling alive –
happened only in the mind

in a quarantined life,
there’s surprise in a book spine.
you absorb the cover with dry eyes
and find the grey
between its barcode lines.
then in a swirling field,
birds of prey
define the day.

you’re away.

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