These underpants
These underpants come in a pack of three. It’s the way their colors match so beautifully, the way that you loved holding the berry, purple and fuchsia fabrics together there in the store, that made you want to buy them. Sigh, so pretty.

So perfect together. Which is why you feel a bit sad, breaking the plastic connector and separating one from the other, for folding in your drawer, for wearing. This moment had to arrive. You bought underwear to have underwear, after all.

They’re still nice, but not as nice somehow, as they were there together, on the hanger, in the store. You wish that there were some trendy style, the way there is with tank tops, in which you’d wear two or three pairs layered together, perhaps the fuchsia over the purple one day, the pink over the fuchsia another. It would look so nice, if only. If only you could actually do that and every-day people would even see your underwear in a way that was understood a healthy appreciation of color, rather than as something trashy, or a come-on.

Which is what they are in the store, I guess. A different kind of come-on. They look so pretty you drink ‘em in with your eyes, yes, sure, now, but once you get them home and separate them, never again.

Except here. Which is why I picture them, Henshaw. Just so you can see those pretty colors. Nice, huh?