Fingers dipped in purple powders
Fushia gold my makeup
Black skintight latex suit with neon circles
How my outfit is made up

Three rings around my waist
Intersecting, two vertical, one on the horizon
The circles glow with noble gases
Radioactive, after all, I'm an alien

Perfect spheres and concentric rings
Are trending, so I have read
I balance on stacked circles, my six inch latex heels
And floating circles surround the pair of buns on my head

My bones poke through my latex,
Anorexia won't stop my passions
I may not be the body type you want, but I'm the body type you have
And I still enjoy the fashions

No.
Not ornamental,
more fundamental.
Not sentimental,
but rudimental.
And when I wear it
it's very much an intentional
statement of who I am,
how I live
and who I worship.
So, no,
not simply pretty,
but pretty much essential.

you don’t shy away;
that’s my favourite thing about you

you’re comfortable in your skin,
or under pounds of cake,
in your ripped jeans and cropped tops,
sneakers or wedged heels

handsome in dresses
pretty in suits
shades of pink and blue
gender norms have got nothin’ on you.

comfortable. safe. confident.
that is you.

Socks and sandals a fashion faux pas?
I've been told that its an unspoken law.

Whether they're  thick or thin, woolen or silky.
As long as they hide feet so pale and milky.

Not only do they keep my toes toasty warm.
But cover those hideous and unsightly corns