Me and my toenails are staying inside.
As I water my feet, with spiced bubbles,
they grow horned edges
that rasp through my socks and make holes
which I fix with thread and increasing neatness,
and in this way we pass the time together.
When I ease clippers through their work
the pale crescent shapes recall for me
the moon, I lean, ape-like, out of my window, to see.
We have everything we need.
– Chloe Jacques
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