Dear poet,

When your lips were stained with wine, your tongue was stained with “I love you.”

Months later, after you had left and we had both lived our lives like we had never happened, I asked you if you meant it.

"I love you, Katie."

You break my heart, just the same way you break my face into a perfect smile every time I hear your voice. We share a piece of the very same soul.
And every time you tell me the other half of you is twisted like the bark of an ancient tree carved by the ancestors we never knew I will bite my tongue and never tell you,

Dear knotted soul, dear twisted heart.
Dear soul mate, dear poet. Whatever type of person you may be, we still share that piece of sunrise together. Polluted sky, I see the knotted string in your eyes just like Andrea says.

I wait for that little tug.