by Jeph Johnson
two years after the year you were mine
better known as 1999:
a time perhaps, I should have disregarded.
the years preceding the year you were mine
did not parallel, coincide or align
when compared with the years
after you departed...
a decline realized, our love built on lies
I never told and you thought I started...
disassembling completely a life with design;
I never knew if it was her or I
or the Architect who finally parted
and allowed the continuance of our demise...
demolishing all I had hoped to find
in one previously so tender-hearted.
two years proceeding the year you were mine
better known as 1999:
a time perhaps, I should have discarded.