Sitting on the couch looking at
the bright polish as it captivates you,
choosing one, you shake the bottle
then twist the lid, the smell
hits you like a gust of wind that's
strong enough to mess up your hair.
Pull up the lid, revealing the brush,
polish drips and you wipe the excess,
as you lay out your hand like
you intend to draw its outline.
Take the brush and paint your first
nail, yell at your dog to stop sniffing
you, move on to the next nail.
Now all your nails are freshly
painted, as shiny as the metal
on the nail clippers.
Until they dry, as dry as skin
in the winter, don't touch
anything, smudges are the
enemy here, don't say I didn't
warn you, in fact, just act
as if you have no hands.