Illusion casts a gentle balm
medicine for the questing soul
describing life with due resolve
garments worn outside of norms
draped in unfamiliar ways
fabric is now on display

distraction made all too real
found in whirling skirts
now that clothes are worn to please
no longer kept in closet’s space
brought to floor as dancers spin
only knowing joy’s rapt refrains

euphoria found at hem's length
be it short or stretching forth
to caress the legs’ course
both tickle needs that joy explores
contentment found in beauty’s jest
now possessed to find the rest

against the judgment of the gods
rebellion becomes fashion’s goal
demanding much of society
as the normative is displeased
still the cure is surely worn
illusion cast to become my form.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190410.