Sweet Like A Crow

Your hair looks like
a pile of rusting steel
like a bunch of grass on soil
like branches that grow from a tree
like fibers that were spit
from eating oranges,
like tapeworms in an intestine,
like a guitar's strings,
burning straws
a climber growing up
a wire hanging on a roof.
Like leaves tearing apart,
like a cobweb being woven by a spider
like a source of an evil,
a tuft of a poodle's fur, staples on a book
like moving legs of insects
like thorns from a flower's stem,
a huge ribbon, like a robe
being cut, like
falling pollen, the surplus
after eating spaghetti,
splinters from woods,
plumage from a crow,
like earthworms
that are living underground
like lines I drew on a paper
and I feel a strange object
touching my shoulder.