Nature Boy by Chris Fair

The compact mirror says, Tuck yourself up, lad,
And sleep the sleep of the just.
My bones, well-oiled with chamomile tea,
My boxer shorts, loose around my hips.
Sleep. While new paths unfurl
Through the enchanted forest of my flesh,
Veins charting maps of magic and science, and T—
(Testosterone and Truth—I choose both).

Lying here on this unbound marble chest,
Commando-crawl style:
My favourite way to sleep.
My whole body breathing heavy down upon
The storied, scar-strewn midnight of my skin.
Deep meteor dimple marks my injection site
Setting my body right.
I tease myself, say: Snuggle down, Mr. Steal-Your-Girl,
Mr. Handsome, ha—
Mr. Beautiful, Mr. Whole Entire Man.

Another day spent learning the face I’ve always known—
My face, familiar yet new,
Gentle from dreaming decades
Of guising at femininity’s divine table.
For all that aching era pained my heart—
(I say, my ‘princess days’)—
I’m so grateful for this impossible miracle.

Now,
I rest my new-forged muscles in deepest sleep
Lying here visible beyond my dreams.

Illustration by Laura Darling