His voice was played with her mind like a snake charmer with a flute. She had to blink twice to clear the haze away from her mind. Tightening her legs closer together, Elizabeth licked her lips slowly. "I am not a big fan of Cummings but that poem is lovely."<br/><br/>She took another sip of her coffee as her nervousness rose to nearly feverish. "You are a lovely teacher. Are you a big fan of Shakespeare's sonnets? I love the old work. Recently, I grew fond of Whitman." Elizabeth looked up at him expectantly, wondering what they should do next.