The One With Our Fort.

Dear Lover,

Let's build a fort in our living room.

We'll use our grandmothers' sheets.

Let their worn in softness cascade above us.

You'll hang twinkle lights haphazardly about.

And we'll lie across mismatched pillows.

That I arranged so nicely.

And eat a macaroni and cheese dinner.

We'll want music to hum to.

So you'll drag the record player within.

And we'll dance to our favorite songs.

Our toes will touch.

And send tingles through our spines.

So we'll end up making out.

And cause our little home to fall down upon us.

But that's okay.

Because we'll just stare at the ceiling.

Like it's our very own collection of Tennessee stars.

Love, 

Me.