Carnal identity

The casing we cling onto so greatly
reassures us that indeed we do exist,
for our impalpable spirit
at times, appears merely a dream.
Our eyes in which we look so deep
as if attempting to grasp the within,
shining bliss or saddenedly opaque
dilate at every fascinating detection,
our hair of many colours, curly or straight
a frame to our visage round or oval
we recognise as ours, reflected on
crafted sea sand for us not to forget,
who we are, focusing on its features
one by one, wrinkles portraying
our escapades scrutinised in search
of traces of happiness amid the many scars,
as a central protuberance inhaling
detects scents of others
registered to elicit memories, red lips
our mouth uttering sounds we call words
through vibrating vocal chords stored
in our throat, our neck tirelessly supporting
the head, on our shoulders bearing
the knots revealing our frustrations
insanity, while arms are still willing
and able to carry out intentions,
five fingered hands at their extremities
to mould ideas give them space
in the physical realm, our torso
encaging to protect muscles
pumping life where distinction
is made between woman and man,
for she in clothing hides her breasts
of nourishment for progeny to grow,
our stomach flat or bloated conceals
a second mind, enteric nervous system
responding to emotions, our pelvic
cavity beneath, where reproductive organs
give, pleasure to the living
engendering new lives, our thighs,
knees and calves supporting
our every motion so that we
could wander the land discover
understand, our feet
rooted to the ground for balance,
for us not to loose touch
with reality fly away
in realms of fantasy, our skin
delicate involucre of it all, shelling
our skeleton keeping us erect, protecting
trillions of cells
unfathomably combining to compose,
us.
[Featured photo: Human Body permanent exhibition, Germany]