ERIN JAMIESON
Nail Polish
Painting my toenails under
blistered sunset—I can’t say this
was what I imagined but there’s
cerulean blue polish & I need
color to connect my body back
to the sky—that infinite feeling
that we exist beyond our weight or how clear
our pores are, beyond what others see when
I was interrupted.
Emails to answer,
bills to pay. Even my cat
demands my attention,
walking over my keyboard
begging for food- food I
have to go to the store for,
use crumple dollar bills
I find at the bottom of the purse
my mother bought me hoping
I’d go on a date, hoping
But I’m alone still, getting older &
this studio apartment sometimes echoes
the constraint I try to place on my mind but
my mind wanders as it always does, searching
for reason: is my life colorless because I am or
because I’m afraid of color? leftover nail polish
is now dry because I forgot the lid or wanted
to forget.