I don´t believe in metaphors.
I just allowed them
to keep trying
a tango with my words
to write blind steps
on my devoid floor.
I don’t believe in metaphors,
but sometimes they stay,
well-known guests,
behaving
as the lady of the manor.
Hóspedes
convite,
But metaphors believe in you, milady.
They made this nice tango.
(hey, let them stay just for a while, will you?)
Why not?