Poetry: My Grandma’s Jinn

as a tiny girl, I’d stare at the pretty bottleon grandma’s cherrywood dressing tablewhile she covered my head in foam curlersso I’d look good for the Lord on Sundays when she wasn’t looking I’d run pudgyfingers along its sleek pink sides beforesilently tugging at the curved pearl top hoping for a peek at its magical elixir […]

Poetry: My Grandma’s Jinn

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