MANI-CURE for the Newly Assembled
thanks to Vogue Void

alison lubar

  1. Secure an appropriate polish.* Lacquer, slick, still liquid. It will dry shiny.
    a. Do not drink. It does not taste like it looks.
    b. If your vision is monochromatic, any shade will do. Let the algorithm pick for you.

  2. Prepare the area. Refer to your assembly manual for compatible materials.

  3. Paint the tips of your appendages pink. Abalone, Bahama Sands, Cotton Candy, Skin InsideOut.

    a. If you have one between your legs, make it blue. Cerulean, Chemtrail, Hyacinth, Robin’s Egg.

    b. Choose any color for your tongue. Jazzberry, Ochre, Rust, Fire Engine.

  4. Wait for it to dry.
    a. Speed up the process by heat or UV.
    b. Do not lick.**

  5. Show it off!
    a. Bedeck yourself with something to match. Or go naked. You have never eaten an apple to know any shame.
    b. Let’s go, girls!***

*Not of a national origin. Not Polish. Also, “polish” is a misnomer. Do not take sandpaper to your tender metal. Buff with lambswool last. Each end is scorpion-sharp, or blunted and comforting like the end of a vintage Phillips-head. A cross to hex or bless. Anyone with nipples. Or not.

**Unless your tongue is made of light.

***As in Shania Twain. Not as in your accessories. Not as in anything physical. As in, even you have this sentience. Even if it’s binary or mere modem blips. Even the fragile carbon-based beings who will blink out even before they’ve chipped a nail. You’re alive enough to know for yourself.

about the author

Alison is facing the camera. They have long, dark hair, and dark brown eyes, lined with black cat-eyed liner. They are in front of a brick wall, and are smiling, close-lipped. They have a gold septum ring and gold earrings, with a layer of mixed-metal chain necklaces. They're wearing a blue chambray sleeveless shirt.

Alison Lubar teaches high school English by day and yoga by night. They are a queer, nonbinary, mixed-race femme whose life work (aside from wordsmithing) has evolved into bringing mindfulness practices, and sometimes even poetry, to young people. Their work has been nominated for both the Pushcart & Best of the Net, and they’re the author four chapbooks: Philosophers Know Nothing About Love (Thirty West Publishing House, 2022), queer feast (Bottlecap Press, 2022), sweet euphemism (CLASH!, 2023), and It Skips a Generation (Stanchion, 2023). You can find out more at alisonlubar.com or on Twitter @theoriginalison.