Dec 2, 2017
📸by @langholznicole #yourlevelofperception #mytruth #languageisavirus #truthwithin #classicmodel #bestager
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📸by @langholznicole #yourlevelofperception #mytruth #languageisavirus #truthwithin #classicmodel #bestager
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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gonna have a hard time topping this #nyt #languageisavirus https://www.instagram.com/p/CZtRU9HrAgD/?utm_medium=tumblr
Lanzamiento de #hechizo de @electropneuma editado por @otrasinceridad. Tocando con los grandes @deadbeat_blkrtz & @gella_ra. Presentados por @felipecussen @raaraya & @yolagracia. En vivo 23 diciembre 2020 #languageisavirus. Fotos : @raaraya (Ã MAGIA) https://www.instagram.com/p/CJY7sZapEe9HdkHxyadhWzDOO-MweSTT7_LEZ80/?igshid=1h2j031bbcgmr
#radar #williamburroughs #thesoftmachine #languageisavirus #lovesupreme (Ã Interzone) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCLPY9GJi85/?igshid=10jwiygacy8tc
#LaurieAnderson #LanguageIsAVirus #paradise
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
(languageisavirus)
Yo La Tengo - "Night Falls on Hoboken"Â
I am all original and *turn page (sic.)
women women night photographs women
breathe star scent Strangely walking
photographs ghost women rays ghost seeking in thoughts
above The cover!
(You photographs fog
We the the against the fleeing)
All freeze born open-eyed fears freeze skies
invoke caterpillars
ocean the fleeing
All is walking book
Under will collar is above road-sides sticky the book
Under collar walking sky
Whoa!
brilliant lemon invoke mammoth come mammoth
way before the ghost grapes
the cave brilliant
Strangely fears above passion above above photographs against in the invoke The thoughts
The above in fog
We above fears
I am stuck in a basement blackness reverie and, somewhere, I smell coffee. Through the frosty ghostwhite window I see the milky flower of morning- I am cold.
In a vague watercolor dream I had a man offered me a glasseye lollipop, and I ran into the siren stained nightsong where the radiant ghosts reclaimed me.
I am stuck in a spare change smog of glasscoffin grief and frostbitten requiem. through the drowsy ocean sky, I see the angel's torsos sparkle- I am cold.
{Side Note: I'm trying to push myself out of a harsh case of writer's block, so I used this wonderful site to help come up with some phrases to use in this poem.}