My partner is a fit man. I have felt the shape of his arms and buttocks, the tension of his stomach and chest. He is muscular but lean. He is a healthy, fully grown man. I know the beat of his heart when it is running wild, when it is drumming slowly. I have never known it to be stopped. I am sure I would greatly dislike the feeling of his stopped heart.
I know his hands are rough and calloused, but still sensitive and sure. They can inflict great pain or cradle softly. Booth has hands that can encompass mine almost completely, and they are almost always warmer than my own. I have felt the soles of his feet, the bumps and lumps that make him who he is today. I have touched his warm hand with my own in comfort and felt them hold on for life as if he were drowning in the winter air. When my partner touches my back I can distinguish his hand from many others. I know my partner by his touch and texture. I would know it if I were completely numb all over.
My partner also has soft lips. He has soft lips that fit my own, if such a thing were possible.
This is what my body tells me.