There are moments that crack our histories
into before and after.
Like the birth of a child or a national tragedy.
Things we thought before
and those we’d give anything not to know after.
On one side- life before that phone call
and everything after on the other.
I hang up and spend the after looking for you,
hopeful you are still before somehow.
The world split in two,
and slowly the after is bigger than before.
Before I loved you,
and after even more.