My kind of magic (hint you’re it)

My new reality is stringed together by moments of connectivity and self-care.

I search for these gems amid the crowd in gigs, on a protest with strangers, in the eyes of my pets.

I feel my endorphins dancing when hearing my friends voice, and I am addicted to it.

I choose them especially when I have every reason not to. I warm my hands on their fire in my home.

The beauty of my magic is it’s contagiousness. No one can hide from my smile. It showers all with peace and stings only lies.

My magic costs every ounce of regret and bitterness, and I pay its price gladly in advance. My magic is frisson and tears with rose scented tissues.

My magic stains. Carry it into your day, enjoy the aftertaste, digest the love, and watch yourself emitting it before you even know it.

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