She won’t let me clean the dirt from under her nails
She holds onto it as a matter of distinction,
An indication of her interests.
The grey, opaque polish covers it completely
But not the pink sparkles.
Both will degrade equally
To reveal the dark line still in place,
But this will take a day or two.
Now it’s time for bed
Sleep well, I tell her
Her response,
I will!
Rings of with the certainty
Of fresh nails.
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