“One of them had a shaved head and a silver stud in her nose, the other had cat’s-eye glasses and chipped red nail polish, and they were holding hands. I was so fucking happy—queer zines and records in my hands and a grrl-couple holding hands in public—that I smiled. The girls returned my smile, and my baby-queer heart went boom-boom-bam, a bass drum in my chest.”
Read More“Raised by a mother who believed imagination was sinful, Mina was constantly punished and derided for her creative spirit…. And yet, her poetry breathes with transformative vitality. She dares to imagine a world where women exist wholly as themselves, their value disconnected from the preferences of men.”
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