Y2K

A span of centuries! he announced-
millenia, even! - this love
his digitally encapsulated
and disembodied tongue hurried
and tinged with a flavor
of other-things-to-do
still sounded hopelessly
and tragically sincere
to my lie-weary ears
My vision instantly clouded
with images of countdown kisses
(and two thousand tears)
a press of skin that would
softly welcome a passing of ages
into an undefined new order
that our love would not
(at that moment or any)
witness or "span" at all
except perhaps in his passing thought
and in my lie-weary heart
as his lips part to greet and touch
the first of the Last Days.