This is about an incident in my philosophy class years ago. I suddenly noticed a while ago that this poem taken in a bad light might have darker connotations, it shouldn't but I like the fact that it could. Call me perverse. I thouhgt i would add some more expository text: we were writing essays on the existential idea of love, with Sartre, Nagel, and forget who else, as our text, anyway, i was arguing fiercely about a paradigm of nagel's as if i had experience it, which i hadn't, in fact i had never been in love before, so when the youngest member of the class admitted that she wasn't able to add to the conversation because she had never been in love, i had an epiphany.
