a red plastic bowl
of oatmeal

counting minutes in the
post office line.

a loose thread
on my sweatshirt
I should stop pulling at.

the beige waiting
room, sniffling children,
magazines.

scrubbing dishes
cemented in the kitchen
sink.

my car
trapped in the que
dragging along
the painted tarmac.

folding the fresh
load of laundry.

memorizing
geography
for next week’s test. 

the itch of an
old wool blanket. 

an empty
crystal vase
on the coffee table.

sweeping pine needles off
the driveway. 

watching rain water
evaporate
off the grass.

room temperature water
in a blue glass.


Tori Roozekrans is an aromantic asexual poet who is trying to focus on writing poems about asexuality whenever she can escape the combined clutches of college, work, and her cat. More than anything she wants to share her work with her fellow aces in an attempt to inspire others to catch the creative bug and bring the community closer together.

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