Missing: My Lime-Green Underwear Poem by hollie ash

I am wearing lime-green underwear, which you discover as you peel off my clothes. I inhale sharply as your fingers graze against my skin, and I am thinking about how I’ve lived my entire life before now without you, and what a shame that is.

I feel the wetness of your lips in places that they can’t show on prime-time television and my underwear are nearly forgotten completely, and I don’t even care that I don’t know where they are. Which, if you think about it, would normally be a curious thing, a concerning thing – for my underwear to have gone missing – but tonight I don’t give a damn where they are.

All that matters is how you make me feel, clothed or not. In fact, I’ve misplaced all kinds of things in this moment. My modesty, for one. My worries and fears, for another. And then there is my underwear and the rest of my clothes for that matter.

Oh!

Your lips just found that sweet spot and so really, who cares about underwear or the electric bill or the rotten tomatoes in the crisper drawer that need tossing? For that matter, who cares about global warming or saving the whales? Not that it’s all unimportant mind you, it’s just that when you touch me, I stop thinking about everything except you and me together. Really, when I feel this way, I could never see my underwear again and that would be ok.