Cross Dressing Poem by James McLain

In satin folds, the mirror's gaze,
A softened shape, a quiet haze,
I feel the silk, the thread, the lace,
The warmth, the tenderness, the grace.

Where fabric whispers, secret sewn,
A borrowed world becomes my own;
Each stitch and hem, each line and seam,
Drapes me in fragments of dream's.

Feminine strength, the gentle power,
Blooms quietly, a midnight flower—
Here lies no shame, but something sweet,
The mingling heart, the burning heat.

Between the masks, a soul stands bare,
No she or he, just breath and air—
In woven light, I touch the whole,
The silk of skin, the threads of souls.