Closing eyes . . .
Assuming the form . . .
placing the fantasy of this experience in a nightclub in Iceland, Myrkur takes one in and out of the moss, the lava and ice, to the black sand beaches and by its naming, the dark and murky beats resonating deep within.
Assuming the form . . .
placing the fantasy of this experience in a nightclub in Iceland, Myrkur takes one in and out of the moss, the lava and ice, to the black sand beaches and by its naming, the dark and murky beats resonating deep within.
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