Skin Soup

Kristin Heyder

My mother started melting 

first at her toes 

She always wore socks  

so none of us would know 

 

When her ankles turned to soup 

she used her boots as feet  

and poured the drip of herself 

down the Kitchen Sink. 

 

Once I caught sight 

of skin soup rolling down her thigh 

I yearned to know 

but was afraid to ask why. 

 

Every now and then 

while we would play cards 

I would spy her fingers dripping 

down the Ace of Hearts. 

 

After she lost a leg I had to ask 

When will that happen to me? 

No answer, instead she hiked Stump atop Sink 

and rolled Pant Leg up to Knee.