Mathematics Poem by Fox Everett

Elegant the lines of his body,
shaped by a gentle geometry.
The slope of his limbs approaches the infinite,
always undefined, though in my foolishness I attempt to constrain him
within the limits of my understanding.
I marvel at a face constructed in glorious imperfection,
in carefully measured asymmetry.
Watching from my adjacent plane I wonder,
if I could run my hands over every millimeter of skin,
if I could count each hair, if I could plot the position of each cell,
could I then comprehend the secret of his beauty?
I close my eyes for a glimpse of the answer,
and for a fleeting instant I could swear his equation flashed in my mind,
unimaginably complex, delicate as human flesh,
and shifting organically with the passage of time.