Internalized Misogyny, or, Why a Woman Could Never Be President! Not on My Watch!

I see you with your bundled scarves
of designs reminiscent of places I’ve never been,
and I’m going to guess you haven’t either.
There’s always someone who surprises me
and makes me remember why I don’t make it a habit
of judging someone when I’m in a good mood. 
You’re so elegant, your long legs are so thin,
and the frailness of your bones meet skin is like a leaf being swept
up by the wind. I picture so many large, burly men,
(which is how all men would look, were you standing next to them)
picking you up, dominating your heart, colonizing your collarbone.
I’m sorry, I can’t help but intellectualize
the civil war inside my head- even in describing
something as shallow as jealousy over your pretty
little head. Don’t worry it now, you’re not even real
to me, so there’s no reason to take me seriously.
I see you like I see the birds in the sky; high up
and unattainable. You’re the reason they have classes
on how to look better naked, on how to like what you
see in the mirror. I’m sure you’ve taken those classes,
or thought about it. I’m sure you have problems,
like how birds crash into wind turbines, but we put
them up anyways, because it’s for the greater good of
humanity. Humanity versus you, you versus me. I know
we’re on the same side, I know there aren’t any sides;
we could fight together if I could stop wanting to be you
so badly.