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FINGERNAILS
Layers of enamel with lace and glitter and rhinestones emblazened into them
shouted, "I am LOis," from well beyond her fingertips.
They illuminated the room, the ten of them lined up in a row,
accosting you like neon signs from the Vegas Strip,
each one brightening a half-mile radius and insisting its individuality.
Each nail was wrapped up like a unique, hand-made, one-of-a-kind wedding gift
presented to the bride at a surprise shower.
Fantastic feminine fingernails flaunt, flirt, fluoresce, and flood the room
with light, attracting attention to their frivolous, flammable nature.
They tease with their outrageous, ostentatious audacity.
But can they fFloss? No. Too practical.
to the analytical observer, they mimic the decadence of a Victorian maiden
with trusses and petticoats layered beneath velvet and satiny bows and bells and whistles.
but Lois knew she just had too much time on her hands.
copyright Susan "Sam" Madden
http://www.fortunecity.co.uk/meltingpot/clyde/207/
