Features

It flowers from behind the teeth,

The petalled premonition lingering on bloodless lips.

It settles over the body like a cloud or a fever.

Readying, reddening, a hummingbird about to enfold the air but is pinned in place. That is the heart in its jam of waiting. 

The sun on the wet pavement,

Portioned into round shapes like egg tarts in silver tins.

Calla lily.

Cream colored, same as the lace tablecloth.

The woman sitting opposite.

Behind a cappuccino, the features of her face lost in a veil of steam.

A chill in the room.

Rain in her throat.

The lily nodding in shared solitude.

Her hands cold in their casings of frilled green velvet.

Circling and circling, the coffee stirred with a silver spoon.

Through the haze, mellow jazz, mosquitoes drifting, ladies with floral perfume. 

She sits coiled like a garden snake with bitter breath and forked tongue.

Teeth stained dark red.

Pearls roll off her back, pooling around her on the leather seat.

The soggy wallpaper, seams dotted with wandering ants; they pluck bloody bits off the rose print And sip from the clots beading on the floor like honeydew. 

She watches as if to follow them home. 

Adelia's poem won first prize in SVA's Annual Writing Contest in the spring of 2022. Adelia is a senior majoring in Illustration at the School of Visual Arts. She is from Virginia and loves cats. Judges Merlin Ural Rivera & Kristin Wolfe have this to say about the poem: " The imagery the poet offers readers is undeniable on both a large and small scale, and the language is beautifully rhythmic and textured without being too complex. This is a rich, surreal poem that, just like an anteater’s long tongue, rolls off smoothly and sweeps you up into its insides."