Regular

the-cheshire-cat-grin:

Me, digging hozier out of his shallow grave at the base of a willow tree: hey buddy what’s new

Hozier, blinking in the golden mid-morning sunlight: my lover moves with the wind, as chaotic as the churning sea, as deadly as a raging blaze. When her eyes meet mine, i see myself dying in her arms, by her hand, and my soul finally knows bliss

Me, tucking him back in until spring: okay sleep tight buddy