I am a poet because of you.
It's the way your being
delivered a tidal wave of
poetic awakening to my
once dull veins.

Your lips watered
the flowers in my tongue
that were once called prose
but now they developed into poems.

Your fingers latched
perfectly into mine and
your nerves reacted to my nerves so right
and in that moment I knew our hands  were designed for each other.

And although
your tongue left my tongue
and your hand left my hand,
the diabolical mixture of your blissful and painful memories
kept the flowers in my tongue alive.

Soon enough, the flowers
crawled through my arms and hands,
begging me to write
the poetry that they bring.

You will never read this
but I forever thank you,
for I will always be a poet
because of you.