Edna actually wears
a seven, but she buys a
nine-wide. She mashes
her archless, heavy meat-pods
into pumps and sandals,
the sides gap, reveal red rub.
At night she can smell
the day's wear like over-salted
cashews,dusts them with
Gold Bond Medicated and
remembers how grateful
she was when Orson, her
husband, was charmed y her feet.
He'd peeled her knee-highs
said her feet were
tender, womanly;
pulpy red toes, stale edges of
callous notwithstanding.
She believed him. He rubbed her
feet until she was cooked spaghetti.
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