The faucet salivates
With excitement—
Its basin gurgles
And rumbles
Hungrily
‘Ms. Mary,’ says Nurse,
‘It’s time for your soak.’
The old woman places
Jewelry, her history,
In a bowl beside her.
And steps carefully into
The tub’s digestive
Juices.
Nurse pulls a paper curtain
Around Ms. Mary,
And leaves.
She submerges herself,
Shrivels.
Epsom salts settle
Into creases,
Into softening wax crevices.
Pulpy layers separate and curdle.
Her grey hair,
Floats beside her
With bits of scalp
Still attached.
Her nail beds let go
And her toes curl under.
Nurse returns,
Unplugs the drain
And the tub eagerly
Digests Ms Mary.
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