The air
in the house encircles.
I heard one
crash-boom-bang cat trill
and nooks and crannies
hooking through the night
in odd corners in the house,
round-the-clock increments,
off-hours and such.
Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music, chirps down coffee, and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has appeared recently at In Between Hangovers, The Penwood Review, and Apricity Magazine.
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