Irritation

How much longer will I be doing this dance? I try hard, rejected and rebuffed.
It is not a easily changed dance, I fear it a never ending square dance as we both have become too entreanched to reach out of this whirlwind.

The love isn't gone, just the passion. The rain seems to have claimed all the matches. I sit my last bits of embers, greying with spattering of orange underneath its layers.

A match saved from the storm or something more....