Poetry: “Rivulets” by Joseph Tate

Rivulets Sitting on the bed’s edge and fumbling with listless sympathies, I pause and notice the L-shaped room: the air ducts hum like wizened birds; a pollen scent dulled with germicide; walls a walking-on-eggshells white; calcite colored, suspended ceiling tiles pitted and crazed with ash grey lines. A palm stretched slow across the sheets abrades … Continue reading Poetry: “Rivulets” by Joseph Tate

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