Dirty Fingernails

Each time I catch hold,

It slips.

Lodges under my fingernails,

Darkening the cuticles.

I can feel it,

I can see it,

Teasing me,

Testing me.

Sometimes I can hold it,

For days, weeks.

Other times hours, minutes,

Defying clockwork.

And always the residue,

Under my broken bloody nails.