thought that was you, breathing

by Anthony Procopio Ross

Art by Lori Dorfman

We’re both probably being melodramatic
passing the handsanitizer to each other,
figuring out how not to touch the contaminated
parts last before applying the alcoholic gel.

‘nd

We’re both working through some shit
that doesn’t concern the other, not really.
Your words pour out of you in the morning
when I’m just trying to figure out the weather.

‘nd

There’s this nagging feeling that things won’t
recover and I’m lying to you evenly when I tell
you it’ll be fine. Today, snow carpeted the slimmest
inch above the grass. You were talking about a polaroid.

‘nd

The government is telling people to stay indoors.
I work a job that can be done in isolation, you
are realizing just how alone we really are. We
look at the center of the room as if it’s disappeared.

‘nd

Time spent looking out the window while you drive
the same spaces obsolete, I sense how many other people
require the day to come out of hiding. We all do it.
Our cycles are identifiable under harsh light and timebombs.

‘nd

I don’t know if I love you anymore.

Lori Dorfman, Quarantine Self Portrait #4, Photograph

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