Jeremiah,
You are an insufferable fool on ink and paper. I can hardly imagine what you are like in person. Do you drag your silly opinions around with rope? Dogs on loose leashes? I reckon they bark madly at those who question your say.
Nonetheless, your descriptions are not short from charming. The sea, and the rot, and the fish? I must confess I never felt the urge to visit until you put it so. You must live an adventure beyond those that inhabit my libraries.
I hear the port is a mess of warily moving bodies, prostitutes and men of low morals. Is that so? I envision you maneuvering from this way to that. Or do your eyes linger on crassly adorned women? Is this why you speak so passionately of the sea?
I hear a man is who he is in business. Any tricks of the trade under that thin sleeve of yours?
No, I live far from the sea. Imagine the farthest point in the city, farthest from the water. I live farther than that. Upon a hill of green grass and wild berries, of sunflowers in the summer, lilies on the pond. My rooms are where I write to you, in my fancy laced nightgowns (I'll have you know they are of silk, imported from China and dyed locally thank you ever so) and expensive fountain pens.
I hope your penmanship (a generous description) is simply a result of living aboard your tilting, tilting, tilting boat. I cannot distinguish your "t"s from your "l"s.
Still, I must implore you to tell me of your upbringing. Who taught you to write? To read? To sail and to fish? I imagine a mentor, a father, an uncle, or an older brother.
Perhaps a mother?
Finally, your jab at my so called poetry is extremely irrelevant as your own writing resembles that of my incompetent squire. He is not yet of age.
You dive under water, the world turns upside down, and then you think of me. I beg you not to write romantically. Women will hang your letters in scorn. Jeremiah, the fool of a lover, they will name you. Poor Jeremiah, the water obscures matters more so than your vision. Alas, you earn points for creativity. Do the fish sing or cry when they see you? Perhaps both all at once. It must be deafening.
Have you seen the sirens? I hear them wail from this distance. Do they sing to you, or have you grown immune to their charms? Is that possible? Enlighten me.
Sincerely, and slightly couriousily,
Daemen
P.S perhaps opt for words you know how to spell in your next letter. A friendly advice.
Idk??
This is a pt2 if u haven't already figured that out. Idk what any of it means but I'm having fun with it so blah blah
Xx
