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.

ERIN JAMIESON (she/her) holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Miami University. Her writing has been published in more than eighty literary magazines, including a Pushcart Prize nomination. She is the author of a poetry collection (Clothesline, NiftyLit, Feb 2023). Her latest poetry chapbook, Fairytales, is available from Bottlecap Press. Twitter: @erin_simmer