Time is just a shell described and scrawled a pencil compass arc, a circle route outside apartment buildings, inhabited or thoughts, with notioned circle steps of seconds hand, walker trained, leashed Black Labrador companion, death churns up the clock face hill, muscle sweat against the slope rise over run, past once playing little blond girl who smiles at all the world, time at its beginning, six seven eight nine,
From the bottom of the hour toward the middle clock hands frozen wall, fear of infection unmoving and impossible impassible, exercise of stepping stair of hill, a stiff right angle walked through, ninety degrees and counting, counting once again along the climb, dragged by dog as if disease, midnight scatters runs at any green patch then relieved the four paws claw and scrabble ahead toward top of hill and hour, nine ten eleven twelve,
One hundred eighty half the spin in air and sun as clear as joy the isolated lonliness is turned solitary and unique of moments, virus is forgotten, twelve one two three
Turns adult, hallucination neighbors ghosts reflector sunglasses tangled hair angular body losing innocence easier the emptiness, descends in three four five six,
Time flies scribed and circle useless six feet deep, deep six (a Navy contractor build, an ancient lady waiting at the gut and bottom of the hil on the black energy bundle creature, she has hired walked.
All revolves around a center resident club closed to Covid, gravity well, dead of life the exclamation point of virus signs time stopped, the world in space capsule endless moments, expected birth to death traverse, in each rotation, circle spells out silenced moments, quarantine.

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