Every woman is a mystery to be solved, but no woman hides anything from a true love. The color of your skin tells us how to proceed, if you have the tone of a rose in spring, soft and pale, you have to caress it to open its petals with the heat of the sun. And the pale and freckled skin of a redhead, evokes the lust of a wave breaking on the beach. Removing what lies beneath and bringing forth the sparkling delight of love. Although no metaphor accurately describes the fact of making love with a woman, the closest analogy would be to play a rare musical instrument. I wonder if a stradivarius violin feels the fury of the violinist when he extracts a single perfect note from his heart.
