"iver" poems
I found you in the cracks of winter. On our first date, we drank tea from cups bigger than our faces. You also told me you wrote poetry. I noticed how every time you would lick your lips before you would speak. The first time you read me a poem your window was open and it was raining. Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat six times. I was smitten. After our third date, I showed you my favorite place in the world. I took you to a bay on the outskirts of town. I told you the stories I carved into the sand a long time ago. I told you I came here every time the world kept turning but I felt as though I've fallen off, waiting for a guitar solo crash or a midnight knock on my window.
I wanted to tell you, you were my midnight knock. You let me hold your book of poems that night. There were bite marks in them from when you said you climbed up in trees back when you were as tall as the kitchen counter. We had conversations of Bon Iver and soccer as we laid on the sandy bay.
I realized that night I wanted to be there with you when the clock swallows up your time and watch indie movies on Netflix when there is nothing good on TV. I turned to look into space and swallowed all my feelings. I felt hollow when I looked at you and noticed your skin was old and tired. But you looked at me like you were young. You said I was the first to make you feel this way. I was smitten.
At first, I looked at you like a star but ended up seeing the whole solar system.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
JEFF the Brotherhood, Metric, and Phantogram
FIDLAR, The Broken Social Scene, The Zac Brown Band
King Khan and the Barbeque Show,
Matt and Kim, Vampire Weekend, Creedence Clearwater Revival.
Jimi Hendrix, The Flaming Lips, Artic Monkeys
Florence + the Machine
Death Cab for Cutie, Bon Iver, Band of Horses, Parlovr
Kings of Leon, The Strokes, Yellow Ostrich, Cage the Elephant
*** Pistols, The Ramones, Red Hot Chili Peppers,
Bob Dylan
Young the Giant, The ** Ugly Casanova,
Modest Mouse, The Doors
Coldplay, the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones
Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Smashing Pumpkins
Titus Andronicus, Bob Marley
Queens of the Stone Age, Mana, The White Stripes:
all gnarly
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
airports remind me of you
the smell of recycled air, and sterile plastic, remind me of you
getting the window seat reminds me of you
Bon Iver as we slip into the clouds
the clouds
the ******* sky
it all reminds me of you
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
You scroll through your social media where people have sworn not to show what they feel like so their 'profiles' can be aesthetic to look at.
You look at dog videos and swear not to think about your dead dog with whom you never got to cuddle one last time.
You walk through streets you've never been to hoping that it'll lead to a story.
You kiss boys and girls you don't really like and pretend you're waiting for the three-days-later call. You constantly listen to Cardi B because you can't take another Bon Iver song.
You fake a smile, an ****** a brave face.
You look at where you're staying and pretend not to long for that one little park in Paris where you could spend your entire life.
You unblock the ones you lost and feel a fleeting sense of comfort in knowing that they're not happy either and block them again, to feel 'powerful'.
You look back at your journey and sigh because you haven't done enough. You curl into your uncomfortable bed.
And then you realise you're not done.
You realise your journey is just starting. There's so much left for you to say and do and teach and feel. You realise that the best part about yourself is that you're hopeful, despite it all. You realise that despite all the bad that has gotten to you, there's still good, and you can create it. You realise that you've places to go and people to fall for. You've learnt to become your own teacher and your own pupil. You realise that the sky is not the limit for you. You think people calling themselves a work in progress is a cliché, but you know you're one yourself. You're not magnificent. But you will be.
So you light up a cheap cigarette and play the Bon Iver song. And you wait.
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 5:07 PM UTC
It’s three am.
Or actually 2:58, right exactly now.
Sitting in bed with my cup of mac and cheese
I made in the microwave
and woke up my roommate,
because if I’m getting sexiled until 2 anyhow,
I’ll make some ******* mac and cheese.
Blowing on my plastic fork
listening to Bon Iver sing about his skinny love.
That’s something that’s been concerning me lately,
Skinny love.
But I’m eating anyway.
Because rolling on the black top of the playground
(dark and secret, with just enough irony)
with a newly blue-eyed boy
made me hungry.
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 3:18 AM UTC
i’m drowning in new york city.
i want to die, again.
always! why is it like this?
i hate everyone; i want my ****** dramatic burlington life and friends back.
her, him, those two, even them…
i want it back.
i wanna be no one.
i wanna be everyone.
i;m full of emotions that i don’t want because everything is so different except for them.
no matter what i do the doom and gloom is always there.
i wanna change my name
i wanna get a dog—auggie or esme, a red border collie—and flee to the south.
I WANNA DRINK MYSELF TO DEATH.
i see these visions of a stable, happy, healthy version of myself but i also see these visions of me literally not making it past age 21.
i’m eternally stuck on self destructing.
but why?
why!
everything is good but it’s never enough.
i’m never enough, it’s never enough, he’s never enough (whoever he is at any given moment)
sam says he’ll fly me back to santa cruz and my insanity says do it but the small semblance of “morals” i still possess tell me not to…
only because of my parents. because of joe.
i don’t want to hurt them.
i don’t want to hurt anyone. but i’m hurting. always. forever. unless i’m drunk. no, wait…even when i’m drunk. i learned that the hard time this last run.
but life is meaningless (words are meaningless and forgettable) and time is a flat circle
blah blah blah
i’ve been here before
i’ll be here again
everything i do i’ll do over and over til i die.
if i don’t get drunk anytime soon i will eventually.
eternal return; the emo version of destiny.
remember when caroline myss’ book told me my highest potential was “victim”?
i’ll be drowning forever.
i’d rather be drowning in absinthe than drowning in aa meeting coffee.
i ache at the beauty of the world; the beauty which i will never achieve or be a part of.
i cry and i cry and i cry.
i want to be beautiful and pure but it’s all so dark.
all the people i’ve loved and who love me…i weep and i weep and i weep.
i can’t breathe fully; why do i wish i could not breathe at all?
i look back at all my pasts as if they were yesterday, and yet they all feel as if i’d made them up entirely.
disconnected and yet fully involved with each and every era of my evolution…
and yet i swear, i haven’t truly changed a bit.
the details change—the scenery, the faces, the dreams…
but all the emotions…all the thoughts…they stay the same.
“i won’t change, i’ll stay the same—darling, fade away…”
fading & falling & then blooming for a single lovely night
time is a flat circle.
i ache, i weep, i cry.
i naively hold onto the hope that someday…someday i’ll be okay.
please, god.
i have to be okay.
i have to turn off the bon iver.
i’m just trying to breathe.
maybe someday.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
can there be no shampoos? no cakes?
no ales?
do you understand my
disdain for my own
self? i am alone in a room right now
it is a small room
on the eleventh floor
of a mediocre apartment
in a mediocre part of
the greater toronto area
i can hear bad music
coming from the room
above the one i
am currently in
i think it is some sort of dubstep
like, bon iver or something
it is the kind of music that
wins 17 daytime emmy awards
and a ******* from a
dead president of the artist's
choice (a lavish ceremony)
like a dairy queen in
late september,
i weep creamy tears
that taste like creamy
frowny-faces
i weep creamy tears
over a non-existent
lover who is right now
dancing to bon iver ft. drake
whilst punching me in the face
my non-existent lover is
also a stalwart lover
and i resent that quality
i resent my non-existent lover's
stalwart twitter account,
too because
it reminds me of myself
Dec 30, 2011
Dec 30, 2011 at 1:55 PM UTC
You asked if I was going to stay, I nodded,
but I'm just waiting here until your coffee cools,
until your feet go numb from sitting on them
so you have to switch positions, until the letters
magnetized to your fridge stop twisting themselves
into "sorry." Until I feel better about not calling you later.
Last night you asked if I liked Bon Iver,
I nodded, but I only did that in hopes that I could see
what the rest of your bra looked like, because
the strap was barely falling off your shoulder,
and I know you tried to tuck it neatly
under the straps of your dress, but darling,
I want to love you like a disaster. I want to tear
into your skin like your bones are a present,
it's Christmas morning, and I'm that little kid
sitting on the stairs, peaking. I want to line up
my heart with yours like they are those fridge magnets
with the thinest of barriers between them, your chest
a tiny cage that I have the key to, hidden
underneath my tongue. I want to rock you to that song
your telling me is your favorite that I promise
I'm not going to remember the name of. I want your sheets
curled between your toes as you breathe into my neck,
into my mouth, into my brain. I want to use your ribs
like a guitar, stroke them in a rhythm only I know,
only the two of us can hear the sound.
I want to come this close to falling
for you before I have to break free.
You asked if I really had to go, I nodded,
but in my mind I'm leaving you clues:
footprints on your carpet, my belt on the dresser,
my smile as I watched you through
the crack of light between the bathroom door
try to put your hair up ten different times
before you came to bed, just so you can find
my heart between the pillow cases
as I pull my car out of the driveway.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
[Justin Vernon - Bon Iver: Sample From "Woods"]
I’m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
I’m building a still to slow down the time
I’m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
I’m building a still to slow down the time
I‘m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
I’m building a still to slow down the time
[Hook 1 x2]
I’m lost in the world, I’m down on my mind
I’m new in the city, and I’m down for the night
Down for the night
Said she’s down for the night
[Kanye West - Verse 1]
You're my devil, you're my angel
You're my heaven, you're my hell
You're my now, you're my forever
You're my freedom, you're my jail
You're my lies, you're my truth
You're my war, you're my truce
You're my questions, you're my proof
You're my stress and you're my masseuse
Mamasaymamasamamakusa
Lost in this plastic life
Let's break out of this fake *** party
Turn this in to a classic night
If we die in each others arms we still get laid in our afterlife
If we die in each others arms we still get laid, yeah
[Hook 2]
I’m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
(Run from the lights, run from the night)
I’m building a still to slow down the time
(Run for your life, Down for the night...)
I’m lost in the world, I’m down on my mind
I’m new in the city, and I’m down for the night
Down for the night
Said she’s down for the night
(Run from the lights, run from the night)
[Bridge]
Who will survive in America
Who will survive in America
Who will survive in America
[Hook]
[Gil-Scott Heron]
Us living as we do upside down. And the new word to have is revolution
People don’t even want to hear the preacher spill or spiel
Because God’s whole card has been thoroughly piqued
And America is now blood and tears Instead of milk and honey
The youngsters who were programmed To continue ******* up
Woke up one night digging Paul Revere and Nat Turner as the good guys
America stripped for bed and we had not all yet closed our eyes
The signs of Truth were tattooed across our often entered ******
We learned to our amazement untold tale of scandal. Two long centuries buried In the musty vault, hosed down daily with a gagging perfume
America was a ******* the illegitimate daughter of the mother country
Whose legs were then spread around the world and a ****** known as freedom, free doom. Democracy, liberty, and justice
Were revolutionary code names that preceded the bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling in the mother country’s crotch
What does Webster say about soul?
All I want is a good home and a wife
And a children and some food to feed them every night
After all is said and done build a new route to China if they’ll have you
Who will survive in America?
Who will survive in America?
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
slowed breaths and an aching heart,
shrivelled tissues and torn sleeves,
suddenly don't seem to exist,
suddenly don't seem to matter anymore.
because you've reached that moment when the world just explodes,
when you can't contain your emotions a second longer,
when everything you've ever wanted to say comes spiraling out in a jumble
of mixmatched words pocketed from years of love, hate, isolation and determination.
when you feel uncontrollable,
in a good way,
when you feel reckless,
but powerful,
when you feel so incompetent,
but on top of the world.
everything that's ever ended on a low note has been tuned up so that high voices and beautiful noise is all that you'll ever speak or hear again.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
An almost stillness came about as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty
But her obsidian eyes betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
she looked at me,
and I knew…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Molten lava spilled forth from her mouth, melting our clocks—
eighteen hundred nightmares compressed in two hours.
Long hand moving forward, as the short hand moved backward
How can memories persist in such an acrid life?
She spoke of a beast in the guise of a man,
one who ravaged innocence with the flick of a click
A coward that collected milk teeth for hardened bones
of other ***** beasts with no spine
That throaty tenderness when she spoke,
sprinkled crystal seeds of frustration in me
She says she loathed him, denied she loved him,
but her obsidian eyes betrayed her
There she was, a bud he plucked from the nuns’ garden
He grafted then he pruned her,
spreading her pollen, wafting her scent
yet folding her petals to himself
Caterpillars feeding upon her leaves,
she lets them devour her,
yet once they are wrapped in their cocoons to sleep,
she stabs them with her thorns.
Tears then slid down from her midnight lace eyes
and it was all I could do to catch them
She said she was weary of curtailing butterflies,
of tearing their wings before they can even fly
I had to ask, how many… how many winged gems?
She lifted her sleeves, and showed me her scars
One ugly mark for each innocent child plunged deep,
my heart getting slashed at least three hundred a beat.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A certain stillness came about as I strode into her door,
like fear itself refused to move,
letting breath touch her mysterious beauty for the last time....
Her obsidian eyes had betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
I looked at the knife beside her.
Maroon-mapped sheets, a stunted womb.
Strains of Bon Iver’s “Flume”
flit past the sighing air like a butterfly,
and I knew…
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
i. this poem is not about that thursday afternoon
you spent holding me in your arms, swaying
back and forth in the middle of your bedroom
because i mentioned that no one understood me
and you told me you liked my dark hair and
my olive skin and the fact that i wrote poems about
confused teenagers in love and that i had a heart
that was just as confused as yours was
ii. we whispered sweet nothings to each other and
kissed under your navy blue duvet for two years
and the reason i still cry over that is because
you knew how much i detested dancing and that
i hated when my peas touched my potatoes and
that i never went to bed before two in the morning,
but you never learned that i am an iceberg
iii. i asked you to describe me and you failed
to mention that i'm afraid of the dark because
it reminds me of a sky without stars and that
my favorite song is skinny love by bon iver
because it reminds me of the relationship that
i shared with you and you never understood
why i liked sad things (it's because i like the
way rainy days and sleepless nights make
me feel something worth writing about)
iv. this poem is not about love or heartbreak
but it is about you, and i must admit that it
feels awkward to write about you without
feeling any ounce of admiration or hatred
pulsing through my tired veins. this poem
is not about me missing you, or how i wish
that you still thought about me, because i
am glad that i no longer float across your
mind whenever you watch a baseball game
v. you were like the titanic and our feelings
were the ocean that carried you closer to me.
you saw the surface of my being, consisting
of all the things you liked about me and the
things that you could put up with. but your
ignorance became too much and every
quality you failed to pay attention to came
crashing into you all at once and i
absolutely destroyed you and i don't know
whether to say i'm sorry or
you deserved this
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 12:42 AM UTC
Let's join a whistle band
And light matches with our teeth
Lets ask everyone when they lost track of Waldo
Cuz I havent seen that ************ since the 10th grade
Let's believe in all the superstitions
A little luck is what we've been needing these days
Lets eat sushi and climb on rooftops when we aren't supposed to
Just so we can look at the white lights and hope that the height will give us a little clarity
Lets ask long questions with long answers
And know that to talk you also have to listen
Let's watch creepy **** and wear socks with high heels
We'll be class acts till the day we die
Though not in the way everyone expects
Let's spend way too much time together
And cut through backyards in the snow
Lets pay for our café drinks in change
And ask for favors because we're close
Let's spill our guts and our laughs
Because you're the only one who gets me
Lets spell out words with pennies
And decide life in ****** thrift store dressing rooms
Let's cry and be sad
With the promise to be happy
And healed when the other is near
Lets rip up t-shirts
And change the radio in each others cars
Let's take a million memories
And expect the best out of life and gelato ice cream
Let's dry up flowers in the summer to look at in the winter
And wear too many rings on our fingers
Let's hang out with ******
And rent a red convertible for the summer
Lets read books and watch Mulan
And take walks and get together just so we can nap
Lets play assassins creed
And listen to Bon Iver (or Bone Eyever)
And take a break from thinking too much all the time
Lets join a whistle band
And light matches with our teeth Because all of this has meant more to me than a million everythings
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC
when you suddenly realise your in love with your best friend.
the one that was there when you were in yr 8 and were going through your "I’m ‘creative’ with my fashion" phase
the one who was there when you liked all those guys and embarrassed yourself in front of them
the one who was there when you developed that eating disorder and hated everything about yourself
the one who was there when you became the very ***** you never thought you’d become
the one who was still there after all the **** you went through with your dad
the one who helped pick you up from the ground when life kicked the living **** out of you
the one who you never thought you’d ever find attractive.
the one who made you laugh until you cried
the one who creeped up on you without you really noticing
the one who swept you off your feet even when he didn’t want to
the one who you know you’ll find very hard to stop loving.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
I knew who you were the right one when you stepped into my life
you had your thick rimmed, non prescription glasses
that were way too big for your face and you secretly knew it
your apparel consisted of Urban outfitters,
your grandmother’s closet or
“cute things you found on amazon”
and the scarf in the middle of august means one thing,
you're a hipster!
You stand out like fireworks on the 3rd of July
No not because you are one of a kind,
It's just that you were 15 minutes late to my History class,
you don't follow time because you go to places when the “vibe is right”
you pulled out your Mac Book Air out of your satchel and you waved at me.
Okay now you are one of a kind
After class We started talking about the music we listen to.
and we listen to the same music
Which is the equivalent of finding the holy grail in your studio apartment in downtown Portland
where the air taste like that Caramel Macchiato that you had this morning.
We talked more out of class
We talked about Michael Cera movies,
and how anything with a filter looks better on instagram
and how she writes poetry with her vintage typewriter,
and the undeniable fact that you will never be proud of what you are.
H
I
P
S
T
E
R
One day after class, I was walking you to you bicycle
(you don't use a car because you like going on your own path)
and I found the courage to ask you out on a date,
you sat there puzzled for a while and you said yes.
Later that night, I rode in my bicycle to your apartment as you hopped on your bike and we rode to a drive in theater, drank PBR, and loved every second of that moment.
When we stopped at your house
I held your hips and said, “lets fall in hipster love like Matt and Kim, I wanna see your Bright Eyes peer into the Pixels of our lives . I want you to see that
maybe a little Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver will make our lives a little Clearer
You bring the Modest Mouse out of me as it crawls through my wall of lies
You make me wanna jump in a Passion Pit with The Nationals,”
and then I hugged you like a Grizzly Bear
You kissed me as it gave me wings to fly off to the back of my mind
and that honey is what makes you one of a kind.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
04.35 am
Bon Iver is playing quietly
For Emma is set on repeat
I'm hiding under the covers
Music is my sleeping pill
Tonight my mouth refuse to swallow it
So awake I lay
With the drapes drawn
Hoping to finally get some rest
Bon Iver is playing:
'For all you're lies,
You're still very loveable.'
While I pretend that
For Emma is my song
04.53 am
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
Uret slår
Tik, Tok
Tik, Tok
Dagene forsvinder
Revet ud af kalenderen
De forsvinder i mængden
Bilerne kører i pendulfart
Først på arbejde i byen
Så hjem til forstaden
Ugerne passerer
De bliver til måneder
Der bliver til år
I en ivrig iver efter det hele
Forsvinder mennesket
Jeg prøvede.
Jeg ville have det hele
Nu.
Mennesket smeltede sammen
Som en robot
En dødsdømt robot
Rutiner blev udvasket
Adrenalinen pumpede
Et euforiserende stof
Jeg tabte.
Min robot brændte sammen
For altid.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC
the back of your truck was painted a brick red, with the previous blue showing through the cracked paint.
I remember the drive up to the top of the hill with you
Bon Iver playing softly on the radio as you grabbed my hand
singing me the words to Skinny Love
and even though the parts of me weren’t skinny
you loved me anyway.
We reached the top of the hill, and everything around us was dark
the moon was new, the sky blackened like a bruise
the car lights shut off and I jump out of the cab
"too short for trucks" I murmur
I rub my eyes to look up at the sky and gasp
stars freckle the once black sky, casting a luminescent glow over the hills
and on your face
twinkling in your eyes
and I remember thinking how beautiful you were that night.
You pull all of the blankets you brought out of the back seat
and begin forming a makeshift mattress in the bed of your truck
I watch you in awe
watch the muscles in your arm contract as you work hard
to make this night perfect for me.
"I love you, you know that, right?" I whisper to you
you lean over the edge and kiss my lips
and say
"I know".
Helping me into the truck I find my favorite blanket
the plaid one with the wine stain from late night endeavors with you
and wrap myself tight
you wriggle your way in with me, throwing another over us
and I look up
amazement finds my eyes and my mouth is agape
but you don’t see it
I look over to you and see you gawking at me
I whisper what, and shuffle your hair
and you smile coyly
"The stars pale in comparison to the beauty that lies next to me"
I grab his face and find his lips
kissing him over and over
somewhere in between kisses and stargazing we find each other
half naked in the back of your truck
and I’ve never felt so alive.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
What bothers me isn't that you left
It's that you lied and said that you would never leave
All those times you told me ''I love you''
Were those just lies?
What bothers me isn't that I can't hug you
It's that you're probably already kissing someone else
All those times you held me tight while listening to Bon Iver
Were you just trying to make me feel safe?
I miss you
I miss us
I'm sorry
I...
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
katy perry wasn't far off track
sometimes my emotions feel like plastic bags
drifting in the african dust...
a place i put my feet
one february
years ago
and flatsound tells me to come clean
but i can't
i have nothing to contrast it with
ignorance is my final plea
and i don't even know
what holocene means,
bon iver
but i know
that poetry is just words on different lines
and they're the only ones i seem to write
these days
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
*My skinny love
Try not to be so anorexic
Let's just try to be
More than real but rather lasting*
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
Lets hide away.
Lock our selves in a little room,
our skin will touch and our entire
beings will become one.
you will look at me and
no words will ever be needed.
our communication
based on simple looks alone.
our story like a Bon Iver love song.
a poetic jumble of melancholy bliss.
and our love will be shared by
just us two.
No one will be there to infect it
to make it something we know
that it most certainly is not.
Lets hide away.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 6:54 PM UTC
pigen der tavst traver gennem
skoven der efterhånden er helt nøgen
og iagttager de gyldne blade der er faldet
med hendes rødvinsfarvede læber suger ***
grådigt på den sidste cigaret *** kunne finde i lommen
og vinden hiver i hendes lange lysebrune bølgede hår
men *** er ligeglad, for *** kan kun tænke på at
en dag, snart, vil *** forsvinde fra dette sted
i ørene danser der stille toner komponeret af engle
og sunget af Bon Iver
pigens øjne er store og runde, og vidt åbne
for *** prøver at sluge så meget af denne følelse
før det er for sent igen og lyset der titter igennem de spinkle
grene atter er forsvundet og erstattet af en grå tåge
hendes tanker står så stille, samtidig med at stemmerne
aldrig nogensinde stopper med at hviske til hende
de hvisker, at en pige som hende aldrig vil blive lykkelig
pigen griner da lyden af ordene giver genlyd i hendes
hovede, *** havde nemlig for længst affundet sig med at
lykken er den nøgne skov, gyldne blade, rødvinslæber,
cigaretter, de sidste solstråler og Bon Iver
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC