Bon Iver, my darling, Bon Iver

This is my heart and my head melted and seeping into parchment and poetry. With a kind of vulnerable, familiar melancholy that's meant to be a close friend - that kind of silent friend where we needn't say anything because everything worth saying has already been said. And loudly, at that.  

(this one's for my near and dear friend Kate and her smoke-and-music perfect porch and the summer evenings we will spend there)