Strong hands with roughened skin, light calluses blanketing his fingertips; his arms welcoming, beckoning, sculpted by nature's toil; eyes that swirl with raw emotion, fathomless depths that tease and sadden with flickering color; thin lips, pale and blushed with cold, wanting and waiting for his lover's tender kiss; matted hair, freshly tossled, boyish looks to tame the virile man inside; a long, endless torso puffed with strength lending support as needed; parts which make him man delicately and appropriately shaped; heavy legs made for sprinting, to run freely in the open fields of springtime; he becomes the artwork from a master artist with finely drawn lines and meticulously carved to the point of absolute satisfaction that gives him the name of being man; masculinity personified to a pinnacle out of reach by any other.