Pubic Hair

I pluck an errant pube
Who escaped a quick trim
A moment of mild discomfort as follicle gives way to force
I hold it up to the light
Looking for signs of grayness
Trying to divine if I’ll find an early grave

That single solitary pube
The tip is redder than red then becomes blonde then brown
Then coal black
I hold it up to the light
And for an instant I realize the generations of men and women
And men who wished they were women and women, men
Coalescing in front of me in this form of a single pubic hair
I drop it to the ground
I return to my game