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Preparations

Steps-
each unknown number
from cradle to grave

push us closer to door.
Death, not life, awaits
us.

But I don’t want to live
cushy
when I’m 90.

I don’t want to
play it safe
in my prime.

I want to prepare for
red checked
blankets in the park, and

I want the wind to remind me
I still have air in my lungs, and
the rain

to remind me I can still
cry.
I want the leaves to bud, and

new life to stir my heart,
amplifying
the sound of the

second hand on my
biological clock. I want to
dance

along the line
between this life, and
the next,

speeding on back roads,
believing
I will live forever.

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