Being (a poem)

I am a human being.
I am pink and round.
I stare at my eyes, wondering at the jelly in them,
how I see.
There are patterns in the irises.
I stare at them staring at me.

I am a human being.
I observe the firmness of my body.
The plane of my back, my stretched legs, the curve of my buttocks.
The slide of my skin is soft.
The muscle beneath is not.

I am a human being
And I don’t understand myself.
The box of my hips,
The line of my spine tapering downwards,
Avenues of exploration for an explorer like you.

You are a human being,
And I love you.
The firmness of your body echoes my own.

I can’t understand my own patterns.

But I can learn yours.

Any comments would be welcome.