At a Nail Parlor, One Afternoon
tiny burrs stirred up— this velvety arousal
by Anna Wang
I submit my hands to a Vietnamese girl
and her tools; between me and her
a rainbow-shaped lamp shimmers
an arc-shaped pusher scrapes and scratches
my otherwise smooth cuticle being roughen
tiny burrs stirred up— this velvety arousal
long white scuffs running wildly on my nails
I see your face above me
myself coiling beneath you
“Are you alright?” her eyes peering over
the rims of glasses, halfway down her nose
I still my shaky hands; I blink you away
now a pair of tweezers for plucking,
now a miniature sickle for trimming, now a file
for leveling. No desire could not be evened out
she hands me a heavy ring binder
pages laden with manicured nails
bodies put clothes back on, demurely
a layer of primer chilling my nails
you slithering away from me
Please, wait to see the color I chose?
her furry brush caresses my pinky
squinting, she examines it before letting it go
being abandoned, my pinky blushes crimson
This is inappropriate, my pinky screams
to be touched by anyone other than him, being addicted
to coming here, fingers kneaded by whoever she is
my gaze swirls to the depth of the nail parlor
on every table, a pair of hands, a Vietnamese girl
rainbow-shaped lamps look like cousins
“Hanna," she raises her head, as if reading my mind
she points to a toolbox, a shining label reads, “Hanna”
“Next time, just look for me”
Anna Wang, originally from China and now living in California, has been writing in Chinese for over thirty years. She is currently the only gray-haired graduate student pursuing an MA in Writing at Point Loma Nazarene University. Follow her on Twitter: @AnnaWangYuan, Instagram: anna_wang_yuan, and Bluesky: @annawangyuan.bsky.social