The World is a Small Town
And My Friends Are My Neighbors
I want everyone to come over. I want to cook a great big meal and pack the leftovers in tupperware and dance around each other in the kitchen, stepping on toes and no one minding. I want to peel and split clementines until our mouths burn from the citrus. Dinner might burn and bubble over a bit and it doesn’t matter. Everyone is laughing and the music is a little too loud. In the morning I’ll make stovetop espresso and clean quietly but for now we are all right here in the soft lamp light. The leaves are falling outside. The moon is almost full, or it just passed. Every photo we take is blurrier and more beautiful than the last. Someone refilled my water and I never had to ask. We’re all piled atop each other on the couch even when there’s more room. We’re talking with our mouths full because we can’t miss a second, because someone is about to say either the funniest or most heartfelt thing you’ve heard in weeks and in the morning you might not remember exactly what they said but you’ll know how you felt. Because life is too short to not say I love you. I love you. We’re singing. We’re messy. One day we won’t share the same address, or even zip code, but my door will always be unlocked. You will always be my neighbor. I’ll leave the kitchen light on for you. Please, let yourself in.
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