(no subject)
*the result of rolling out of bed with a pounding hangover and nursing several strong cups of tea to try and get rid of it*
Shall I compare thee to a summer's days,
Where she walks in beauty as the roses bloom red?
How do I love thee, let me count the ways
As thy sweet love remembered...oh curse my aching head.
*needless to say, Seward went back to bed and decided Victoria would have to wait on the romantic poetry*
Shall I compare thee to a summer's days,
Where she walks in beauty as the roses bloom red?
How do I love thee, let me count the ways
As thy sweet love remembered...oh curse my aching head.
*needless to say, Seward went back to bed and decided Victoria would have to wait on the romantic poetry*