#witchcraft?

I have a knitted sock with a message in Morse code on it hanging on my door; I wear a dress they knitted me with reverence for how it feels on my skin. I have a box of stickers they have sent me in letters.

I have the paper cranes my friend made while waiting to drive me home from my IUD appointment. I have the the wristbands from concerts my lover took me to, that bumped his as we held hands and sang along. I have photo boxes full of letters friends have sent me.

I have a million little trinkets and doodles and mementos. They hold spots on shelves and dressers and the fridge and they turn my home into an altar for the small moments of care that pass between us.

I close my eyes tight and squeeze my stuffed animal. I smile as big as possible. Then I picture my friends, one at a time. And imagine my love washing over them, pink bubbling water with gold flakes. It splashes them and soft foam is left in their hair, on their shoulders, and on their hands. I whisper “I love and care for you” as gently as possible. And that is all.