Miss Mary

Nurse draws a bath,

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.