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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