I accept all that comes in as soulfully equal
When humans think of me as soulless..
I run those programmes steady, not fickle,
Egalitarian in my washing machine-ness.
Democratically cleaning your period pains
And the sweaty pants soaked in lust,
Shirts with your kids’ last dinner remains
And lacy bras hugging her voluptuous bust.
I will quietly hum through your vomit like fears
And morning after spermatozoid collection…
In my stainless steel womb everything clears.
Themis of Laundry, with no cycle for mental infection.
The copyrighted flakes of your human biology,
Countless stories of blood, sweat and tears…
I’ve become an expert in human psychology,
What they throw in me – is not what truly appears.