Trinity Chapa: She Wants to Love
Photo: Joanna C. Valente
Seven vignettes
a lamp touches the orchids
resting on a piano
the kind sometimes encountered
in train stations or hotel lobbies
the flowers
freckled and their little veins
stilettos
strike the pedals like a thick
tar
the bicycle doesn’t move at all
she lets it fall to concrete
the woman is thinking of a man
she wants to love
but doesn’t
PIANO:
(in a low voice)
I have no proprietor
BICYCLE:
nor I anymore
CONCRETE:
the heels of passersby go
HEELS:
(softly)
click clack click clack
PIANO:
I wanted to know what it would feel like
to be touched without making sound
THE WOMAN’S SOLES:
without having to
LAMP:
I wanted to make a gesture
ORCHIDS:
beautiful because it doesn’t touch
PIANO:
(to itself)
what could be more
total than silence
STREETLIGHT:
(buzzing faintly)
we could have the warmth of an orchestra
PIANO BENCH:
string instruments
CONCRETE:
they have their own merits
LITTERED COFFEE CUP:
angels too must eat
DROPS OF COFFEE:
another Waterloo
PIANO:
experiences that cannot be reduced
DUST:
to a unit of relatability
CONCRETE:
social vertigo
HEELS:
(a bit louder)
click clack click clack
to go from a condition of silence
to a condition of speech
it is the only question this woman has
she sits on the piano bench and resolves
not to
