a story from my life
my freshman year of college in connecticut, i’d ride with this girl named jazzy to a beach in rhode island. we would always go at night; it was our only free time. i don't recall ever sleeping during my time at wesleyan.
jazzy was so black that she blended in with the sky. we would sit on the beach and kiss, and during those in between moments in which our lips were apart, we would ask each other questions. one particular time went like this:
i said, "what are your thoughts on communism?"
and she looked at the waves crashing and pointed, "it's beautiful in theory, like that water, but you get one rotten shark and it all goes to shit."
we kissed again, and i said, "you know, i'm a communist."
she shrugged, "i think we're all just here. so you don't believe in god?"
"i'm in divinity school."
and we just kept kissing.