November
By Lynna Odel
If I can’t save us
then let me feel you
happy and safe
under my chin.
If this will drown
or burn
then let us drink starlight
nap under trees
sing on beaches—
the morning rush to sit indoors
what, again?
If we are dying
then let me rip open
and bleed Love,
spill it, spend it
see how much
there is
the reward for misers is
what, again?
If this life is ending
then let me begin
a new one
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