Death of Red Velvet:
You walked into my shop.
The chime of the doorbell clanks hollow.
You leaned your forehead against the glass,
Covering your gaze with cupped palms
I look at you
Looking at me
You like what you see
And you look up at my maker
“This one please,” and I hear the thud of your index finger on the display case.
My maker, “Good choice, sir,” she says
Lifting me with her delicate hands,
Resting me on a bed of bent cardboard.
And soon it grows dark.
I no longer see his face,
The one who chose me.
I hear the drag and pull of scissors.
Soon I am airborne and lifted away
I recall his face was handsome
Dusty brown hair and a red tie
Eyes dark and hungry For me? I hope for it my dream to live inside him.
To make his tongue wrap around my sweetness and keep him awake all night like sweet things do.
I feel him lift me again swinging me up and back
He rests me somewhere.
But it doesn’t feel right…
I’m slipping. No this can’t be!
The angle is too much!
No no no…I must be consumed by him and him alone! Not on the street for feet to trampleon me or lapped up by hungry gulls! Unappreciated for my delicacies and frills!
*sigh!* he catches me!!!
Silly fool! To risk me so!
The jingling of keys and a sound much like the door at the shop.
I’ve arrived at my new home
He pulls off my ribbon
Unfolds the cardboard cradle that holds me.
There is his face. Handsome face!
He puts his hands around me lifting me up to his lips
He breaths me in and walks me over to a glass stand
I get placed there and covered with a dome once again
I sit there and wait.
He will cut me tonight!!! My insides begin to melt, growing soft.
But I must hold it together. No drips or slips. He must have me in my perfection.
The lights switch off. In the dark? Again?
Maybe I’ll be his midnight delight!
The sun peaks through the curtains. He shuffled into the kitchen and looks in my direction.
Breakfast? I’ll be his lunch and dinner too…I’m ready.
The smell of coffee and grass being cut. The day has passed.
I start to lean a bit. I’m tired of standing. Keeping steady isn’t easy. I still look fresh, ready to leap into him.
The night comes and dishes are washed. Lights off again.
Has he forgotten me? Right here I sit. What’s wrong? Did he pick me by mistake?
Morning comes. Shuffle in. Pour coffee. Out the door again.
Disappearing. I feel myself breaking down. I wanted this to be his perfect bite! And so I wait another day in the life of a trapped beauty in this prison.
How many before me have come here to slump over to die untouched?
The door opens. Twilight. Tossing keys on the counter. He’s not looked at me since he brought me home.
I rest on the side of my glass enclosure. I cannot hold it together.
And so comes my time
I lost my sweet.
My moist flesh now a dry crumble.
Butter cream pours out my cocoa-red veins.
And so I collapse.
In my last moment I hear the sound of my clear dome lift.
I cannot stop what happens next.
He chose me. Found me and brought me here.
One purpose and one alone…to live in a crystal fortress.
To decorate his counter, so he will feel my beauty from a distance.
To tease me but never touch me.
Leaving me here to by his time and keep his kitchen entertained for a moment or two.
Then I finally slip away…
And so goes my tale…death of Red Velvet
