Red Velvet
In the time of red velvet, rain came
and left us with silk in hand,
lost in insect thought.
Cake and pie flashed their signs,
night, infected with contests, spun out its choices
on dream desks piled high.
Thread the needle through the eye,
silk in hand to catch the tears
before they dry into insect thought.
Now, thread the needle again
and plunge it in red velvet.
Consider skin and how it’s lost
to conscious thought, caught up in cake or pie,
sweet choices piled high,
piled high.
And when the world cannot pretend
to have its silk in hand
for mending red velvet sky
into cake and pie,
turn to dreams that hide dark choices
in reams and reams of insect thought,
and thread the needle through the eye.
Ferral Willcox is a U.S. born poet currently living in Pokhara, Nepal. Ferral’s work can be found in Per Contra, Peacock Journal, consis, Calamaro, and elsewhere. She was a featured poetry performer in the Philadelphia Fringe Festival, and she is a regular contributor to the Plath Poetry Project.
