A true fable

A mark of my mother's mother's magic.....

Two crooked pinkies

Symmetrical in their crookedness

Passed down from my great-grandmother Alethia,

through the maternal line

Like a pair of chipped blue tea cups

Stubby little cherubs

I used to despise them

Hide them

Try to straighten them with pressure

I've come to admire them

A mark of my mother's mother's magic

The daughter of the witches who didn't burn