a woman only looks

the bearskin snarled at her, mouth frozen wide, lips hardened and painted pink. magnificent, breathing, fierce, knowing being reduced to an expression found entertaining, a weighted blanket on the end of the bed. some people, some soft, careful, orderly people would be scared of it's large teeth, massive head, barely contained murderous desires. others would be fearful of what they saw of themselves.

women, especially.

the hair and skin that would fall apart if not carefully, chemically preserved. the mouth, frozen in whatever grimace society deemed the most desirable for customers, painted pink. the eyes, once glowing with life and warmth, glassy and unseeing. the skull, filled with plastic gobbledygook after the meat of the brain was cooked out, discarded. 

what they do to a bear in this way is graphic, disgraceful, wrong. a women only looks, and she knows.