I have to wonder
if your kind
has hair like horses
manes to be pulled
and you tease your hair
and yank it out in the shower
to keep it one length and shiny

I thought you were
quiet
detained
the sterotypes I study
in intro psych

the lies they tell
so I see your kind.
Your not-so kind.

You smell of rotting flowers
fragrant oils mixed with rancid
body
too much salted meat
your skin appears
plasticine

and I want to return you
to the soil from which
you came