"Red, Your Salty"

I walked past a girl yesterday morning, sitting by her father on a bench in a mall.
"Daddy!" she whispered (albeit a little loud) "That girl has red hair!"
She was stating the obvious. But she was excited about it.

I must admit that my hair is very, very red. Newly re-done red that's drawn the eyes of more than a few. I feel good. I look good. Its hot, I taste like salt.

¡Toro!

I am learning a language that is decreasingly foreign to me.
I spoke it to a bull this morning.
"¡Toro!" I said to him, "Toro Blanco."

Filthy Tongued and Silver

"Did you just swear at him?" She looks back and asks me.
I shake my head and reply; "No."
"Yes you did, you swore!" She says.
I look down to him sitting in the back of the car with one foot in and one on the pavement, looking at me.
"I didn't swear at you," I tell him.
"No," he says staring at me from over his cheekbones. "You swore all around me!"