nevermind cellar door

I think "kitchen door" is the loveliest phrase in the English language. I think of all the people I have ever loved leaning against the doorframe of my kitchen(s) as the heady smell of garlic snaps up from the stove. I think about all the times I've leaned against the kitchen door in friends' houses, listening quietly for the gentle hum of their lives running -- picturing the food stocking their cabinets, the photographs and little notes papering the fridge -- before stepping in to absorb it all. The kitchen door is space between the ribs where the heart is visible. It's cool and wooden and the floor underneath supports your weary body and cinnamon, bread, soup are all within reach.

"K-k-k-Katie, k-k-k-Katie, you're the only one that I will ever adore. When the m-moon shines, over the mountain, I'll be waiting at the k-k-k-kitchen door."