Oh yes, he is a certainly a component trigonometric tutor.

He sketches eloquently inclined right-angled triangles on the covers

Of my notebook and labels them with unpronounceable members of the

Greek alphabet. Sine waves and cosine waves could mean the rise and fall

Of the female's zenith anatomy to some, but no, to him, the maxima is not

Resplendent of Venus, but at pi-by-two, never forget, missy. I pierce the compass

Through the graph paper and draw circle upon circle, arc upon arc, only to be stung

By anesthetic antilogarithms barked at me.

I asked for love.

You gave me an equation of integral indifference.