like my father's big underwear drawer.
I get the same feeling I had at age 5
when I wanted to stick my little fists
deep into the bunches of tube socks.
Now I glance about
hoping no one sees
me rootling around
for unique garments
with my pointy nose.
My face wanders through
a mist of soaps floating above
her white, lightly milk maidens.
As I search through the elastic
carefully with my modest hand,
I touch something cool and hard.
The metal felt softer next to her skin
and her tits were grander than Dad's.
His did not compare to his balls & balls of tighty whiteys.