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nail clippings MAG
back then
you would take
my little hands
in yours
twice as big
slowly
you would press
the cold metal
of the nail clipper
against
my warm
sweaty
hand
fast asleep
you would take care
that you wouldn’t
wake me
my wide eyes
slightly open
my thick brown lashes
fluttering subtly
our fingers entwined
the touch
of your hands
would melt away
my fear
now
no one holds my hand
or watches me sleep
and though
my nails
are perfectly
painted
and filed
there is no one
to
repair the cuts
with
band-aids and turmeric
why
can’t children
stay children
forever?
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When I was younger, I was scared of getting my nails cut, so my parents would do it for me while I was asleep. This piece is a combination of that memory and general nostalgia and bittersweetness about growing up.