A Love Letter to My Mesopotamian Momma

Look, baby, you know I love you. Your dark hair and swarthy good looks called out to me—I wanted you in the worst way, which is the best way I want things. When I want something, I take it, and I slap it around and punch it and go to town, you know what I mean? And I wanted you, baby. You. It was always you.  Read more