Perfect Nails, Everything in Place

. She sits beneath the drying lights. Hands resting on a folded coat.

Talks about the week gone wrong. Things that children never note. Mud on shoes.

A door left wide. Towels damp where they should dry. She says she

tries to keep it right. Says rules don't come from asking why.

Someone files the edges clean. Asks her softly what she likes. She shrugs and

says, "Just make it neat." Nothing loud, nothing that bites.

She speaks of order, speaks of sense. Of how much work it takes

to care. Some people never understand. How thin the line is everywhere.