Short Love Sonnets #6

Short Love Sonnets


6.

I muzzled the old Viennese waltz that lived
hidden under the shadow of my heart.
The waltz was biting my lungs. It hurt.
My bitten lungs never bled blood,
but always bled tears. The waltz never bit me,
until I fell in love with an aficionada
of rap poetry.
Before my love, the waltz and I
were happy together.
When the rapper recited, my waltz asked
for earplugs; I always wore ear plugs,
special made earplugs,
the kind that resembled the flesh of my ear.
I never heard her questions,
she thought my answers Dada.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Metazen