By Libbie Summers
Photography by Anna Heritage
Assisted by Candace Brower
My first kiss was from Jimmy –a Missouri farm boy who kept his hair in a Questloveish white afro and wore a different rock concert t-shirt every day though he’d never been to a single show. Jimmy and I were young and innocent and didn’t really know what “making out” was all about but we tried it anyway –in the woods across from the county fair grounds one Saturday in November.
It was shy and sweet and special. I twirled my skirt and my hair not knowing what to do with my hands. Jimmy and I were lost in our private world in the woods…until the police found us.
My parents never let me see Jimmy again, but I always think of him fondly when I smell wet leaves and cotton candy or see a white afro.
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