How I Know the Piano Seduces Me

I want a different answer
So I’ll ask her once again.
But the piano is no mirror;

I’ll not see myself in her.
I’ll proclaim love for my sleek black friend,
But still I want a different answer

From her rumbling chords, her
Ripped open ends—
I know the piano won’t be my mirror.

She trembles under my fingers,
How long have I been sitting here? How long has it been?
I want a different answer,

And what I want is to hear
Her claim me again,
But she is no mirror

And it’s unfair to see her
For anything but what she’s been:
I want a different answer,
But the piano is no mirror.