Lingerie Memory

I choked it, drank it, smoked it, and puked it.

Doc says I’m “healed” ‘cause I can

keep a thick pizza down, but I still

have a hankerin’ to take it all off.

To tug the string straight.

To even myself out.

The problem is where to put it now.

Should I chop it like a skirt steak?

Hide it in plastic eggs?

Roll it into a knot?

Shove it into the smaller pocket of my bluejeans

like a pill or a house key?

Would the brown waves stop disorienting me if I floated around

like a bubble or a bee?

Would I still be me, round and oozing that way?

Who can tell me which rocks are worth the weight here?

Who can say which seashells sound the right memories

to keep?

How do I hold

god like

a jellybean?

someone please tell me

Regan Minkel is a writing professor residing in east Texas. She is editor of the college arts journal and coordinator in the honors program. She likes to play in the piney woods and make chalk hopscotch with her two children. She has big plans to become a stand up comedian and get a pet tortoise one day.