boniverotica:

When the rain puts an end to our outdoor love-making, Bon Iver and I return home and rediscover the costume trunk in the attic. He finds a beret and a Breton stripe shirt, and we pretend that he is a French impressionist painter living in Tahiti, and I am a native girl. ‘I won’t leave until I’ve captured your beauty with my brushes. I may never see Paris again.’