Let’s build a little empire in the woods and pretend you’re The King and I’m The Queen. You can wear your cape and crown, I’ll wear my tiara and pearl earrings. We can light up a bonfire, stare at the stars, and you can flood me with your regal stories. We will fake the heavy accents and think of Versailles. We may not have our own garden let alone a sovereign chateau, but we can lay over brown autumn leaves and feel the fire heat. An unseen royal banquet with bags of marshmallows between the tall trees. We govern our own miniscule monarchy like Elizabeth, we reign over the woods. And between the branches, we shall be on the throne of the non-existent, silent mass.
Oh, little dynasty.