The Naked Truth

The stories I could tell and having told of trials which would led thee upon a well worn path within the skin and to the core the soul through torrid memories of the long lost past. I'd speak of Joseph whose passions prompted bliss of kisses deep within this form of Eve of baths with gentle hands, where my soul heaved as fingers traced each mounds earthy contrast. And so that, days pleasures not bow to nights repasts I'd share with you a tale of sun baths in rye fields laying au naturel in hip high grass, as caution yields to tender taunting's upon an oh so, rigid mast. Truly, I'd say for bold I am, and never cold, the naked truth should never be, left undersold.