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Alphabet Soup MAG
Alphabet Soup
I stir the creamy crimson liquid
With the tip of my finger
Around and around
Like a tornado.
An alphabet soup tornado.
The letters swirl
In perfect circles,
I see a B
Two N's
Three A's
One C
Spinning in the fever.
A red, salty fever.
My fingertips sear
With the heat of the soup
Or, at least,
I assume they're burning
Because I can't feel one nerve
In my entire system.
Just like the solar system
I can't feel my body,
Just like I can't see Mars
Or Jupiter
Or Neptune
And I never will be able to,
Not after this news.
This heart-stopping news
That will haunt me
For the rest of my days.
I pretend it's not true
But I know it's still real
It still burns,
Just like my soup.
My alphabet soup.
I take my finger
Nudge the letters
Into a sloppy arrangement
To form a word.
Only one word
Four syllables
Eight letters:
L E U K E M I A
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