black ink soaked calendar

thrown away with the rest of the rubbish

once a calendar filled with plans

(hopes and dreams)

planning days upon days ahead

forgetting that days within the calendar are not promised

some days will come; but for others days will be cut short

days full of plans dashed and destroyed; cut with a quick incision

my darling all we are promised is the here and now

in front of me you stand; ocean eyed and unwavering

another moment with you; a moment that fills the void of an uncertain lifetime

these moments mean more than the calendar I used to fill with plans

for, you are my here, you are my now