Unrequited Dance

A
frivolous dance,
devoted to
another,
you passed like minutes
sliding into years.
Disappeared,
just playing in the
sea.
Would your final
dancing
be
small
or just enough
for a humming hundred;
and will you never like
my
ballroom shoes?

Twentieth century dancing,
too final
for slowly humming.
I, playing
small,
devoted
ballroom minutes,
in the time of
red shoes
and
slowly sliding;
the last
and small
of it all.
The orchestra mirrors
toward
last century order.

Devoted
to dance and drink,
attention
to red buttons
and frivolous shoes,
you slowly passed the orchestra,
(never said no),
and disappeared
toward
whatever last dance
would be
enough.