Bess spoke the memorized words of my son Benjamin who had written a love poem to Melissa. He sent a draft to Devi who thrillingly recited them to me i... our marital bed and gave it to Bess. The simplicity and avoidance of ripe sentimentality along with its surprising and even amusing rhymes in the classic sonnet structure impressed us all. Unaware of my son's talent made me feel even more inadequate as a father.Greeting my son as he emerged from the gate at JFK, though pleased to see me, I. So… what I’m trying to tell is that… you could help me Dobbin. With some feedback.”“What kind of feedback do you need?”“So here’s the thing Dobbin… don’t take this in any other sense, just look at my breasts, and tell me what you think of them, or rather, what would you like to do with them?”I brought the car to a sudden stop. “Ok, what?” Ok, what did she just say?“You heard me right”, she said now ogling expectantly at me.“Like I said before, you’ve got good er… fantastic breasts. And they. More

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