He read it enjoying the feel of the words as he spoke them aloud. It seemed to him that poetry was enjoyed the most when spoken. Poets who strove for ...nteresting plays on sounds, rhythms, and cadences were not served well by readers who just skimmed the surface of the poem looking only for meaning. He wondered who could silently read Poe’s great poem, ‘Bells.’“When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now, Will. But that wasn’t uncommon. Most likely he had found someone to fuck, which of course would have kept him busy for the night.Harper now stands in the bathroom before the fogged covered mirror, shower running full steam. She hadn’t slept much last night. The revelations of last night were running in a constant loop through her mind. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to, even Jonathan. She sighs, strips off her clothes, the same ones she wore last night, then steps into the shower.The. More

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