She embasans, cool water
Enveloping her cinereous curls.
The phlegm in her lungs
Rattles in its sombre cage.
There are few that recall her youth,
The candor of her once volitant eyes.
She is dull and sterile like a set of jarred teeth.
The sanatorium is her home
Her mother, her father, and everyone of her 7 sisters.
She rises from a claw-footed coffin
Rivulets rolling single file down
Her jaundiced cheeks. Inside her heart gurgles
Like barley soup left too long on the stove.