Oh.

Beers under the dock, sleepy drowsy drunk, my mittens are sexy, bits of Cornish, the cold pebbles and the smell of seaweed and is that a curlew?

I'm not just interesting because of my accent, right? Promise? Promise. (Though I secretly approve of amateur linguists, and anyone who delights in my vocabulary. I remind him that Americans find my vocabulary funny too.)

You row? You take pictures? You'll take me to mountains? You're a geologist!? Oh, you're fucking kidding me.

2003-01-29, Promises

before / after

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