Who am I
to make such
promises?
Just a whisper.
A moment.
Just a sentence
in a story
so fully written.
But we are
no longer
invincible, love;
there is no time
for reservations.
That would be
the foolish thing.
©2015, Jen Payne, #19 National Poetry Month
Image: Lovers in the Bibliothek, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner
