Ass Crack Forget-Me-Nots

I found one of your hairs in my underwear,
a long tickling reminder of you.

It had been weeks since I’d seen you;
I don’t know how it wiggled its way into my underwear
or how it became lodged in my ass crack.
But, like my other thoughts of you,
it cropped up in the oddest place.
I eat a brownie and I remember 
our fudge and white chocolate wonders.
I see a broken refrigerator and I am reminded 
of roaming the streets between our apartments.

I realize that this is not the most romantic way
to say that I'm thinking of you.
I wish I could say that I'm looking at the moon
and wondering what it sees when it looks down on you.
I'm not.

That happens in movies, we know.
In real life, though, moons don't see us,
or they pretend not to care.
But something more mystical happens.
We find pieces of each other hiding
in the deepest recesses of ourselves,
and we smile.

I can't say that I will think of you always.
But what I can say is real.
I found your hair in my ass crack.
And I love you.

• Tags
• poem