In My Living Room

Written by: Xavier Ellerbe

In my living room, 
i am curled into a cedar rocker
listening to the spring rain
on my roof.
sipping on spidersilk chai,
webbing grasping onto 
the ceramic rim 
and the milk and honey
enveloping my lips.
i feel like my tongue is satin
and can speak no frail language
when i tell you love
is pain
and therefore is real.