Was it in Paris?

Maybe Manhattan.

We climbed stairs from one street to another.

Sang in the rain.

Held hands.

It could’ve been Quebec.

An accordion played in the streets.

This couple dancing under a maple tree.

How in love they looked.

Looks can fool you.

And that was years ago.

Love was easy then.

A simple embrace.

Words spoken softly in the ear.

Promises made on alters.

Do we ever live up to our claims?

What did I bring to the table?

Only myself.

My faults.

May we never suffer again.