”“What’s a class gonna teach me?”“Ever heard of Maya Angelou?”“Everyone’s heard of Maya Angelou, man. My stuff is better than that.”...��Oh, really? Have you ever read ‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings?’”“‘I Know’—what?”“Listen,” sighed Preston, “you have to read and learn this material. I know your style is different from the rest. I know you’re good, but remember— poetry on the page is different from poetry recited aloud. You already know how to speak verse, I just want you to be able to write it. He hadn’t realized how much he loved her until that moment when they finally kissed and both felt their desires ignite. Talking to her wasn’t enough at this point, he knew her, now he wanted her, and he had to feel her. She felt the same though her shy demure wouldn’t allow him to see it. Her black bangs slide over one of her eyes, his fingers gently pushing them back; his fingers curling into a loose fist behind her head. She groaned into his mouth as he kissed her again, the dominance he used. More

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