boniverotica: When the floods came, Bon Iver and I moved upstairs. As we sat on the bed, wrapped tightly in his grandmother’s quilt, we envisioned the days after the waters subsided - the many chores that would need doing, but also the warm, wet feel of fresh mud between our toes and the stiffness once it dries.  fuck man this blog kills me

boniverotica:

When the floods came, Bon Iver and I moved upstairs. As we sat on the bed, wrapped tightly in his grandmother’s quilt, we envisioned the days after the waters subsided - the many chores that would need doing, but also the warm, wet feel of fresh mud between our toes and the stiffness once it dries. 

fuck man this blog kills me