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In My Living Room

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.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things