Background noise
a buzz
of nonexistent words.
I’m on the other side—
my door is open
though there is no need.
I can taste
the happiness
of their laughter.
I can almost feel
their tickling,
it hangs thick—
and saturates my
otherwise dry night—
a night of a singular citrus libation
and breezy summer stroll
just before the sun
bids adieu.
Serious discussions of whirly-bird
popcorn, and unbuttered
kernels flutter across
the threshold.
Then the door closes
and I
can just about
make out
a hello there.
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