At The Laundromat Poem by Ima Ryma

I have a thing 'bout underwear,
Warm and fresh out of the dryer.
Ah that feeling, hard to compare
Anything that gets me higher.
A time and place I cannot wait
For chance more underwear to don.
Against my skin it feels so great,
As excitedly I slip on.
I have no dryer at my home.
Warm underwear being my aim,
Off to laundromats I do roam,
And make it into a fun game.

At the laundromat I guess who
These warm underwear belong to.