Obra conceptual de David Pérez Pol

La caritat capitalista. Fotopoema objecte de Ferran Cerdans Serra.

Primera antología de poemas de Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

Artistic Photographies by Arual SolAir.

We did not  hear the door peep open We didn't notice small innocent eyes watching us Nor knew innocent hears had listened to the sound of our passion  But what we do know is - When we notice the innocent eyes looking at us And a big smile was across its face We knew for sure That the whispering sounds of being loved Innocent knew what that sound was....

Tongue tip lick curvature of fleshy swollen folds  Dips into the void of its sweeping hidden valley lightly stumble into spasm of its cavern walls All while waiting for sweet tart taste of its thunderous rain......... (C)1ManView

Tongue tip lick curvature of fleshy swollen folds  Dips into the void of its sweeping hidden valley lightly stumble into spasm of its cavern walls All while waiting for sweet tart taste of its thunderous rain......... (C)1ManView

Lifeless cigarette stood up high between her long slim fingers, for an erotic effect  While the curvature of her ample round breast took center stage  Long shapely legs looked as if they were reaching out to me, begging me, no daring me to touch them, and once my fingertips touched the softness of their flesh, desire bloomed within As my fingertips followed the shapely curves of her legs, they found the hidden cavern entrance that hid the moistness of her desire between them A desire that wa

Terminaré por amar esa distancia pagana y de hermosos puentes entre tus ojos y los míos.   No hay distancia más bella repleta de puentes que nunca he cruzado que nunca cruzaré y que a veces no existen.Archivado en: "Trinidad López", Literario, Poemas, Poesía, Textos, Versos Tagged: poesía, Poetry

Qué difícil resulta, qué trabajo me cuesta así dejarte como al aire de lo que no buscas sino a retazos de vacío.   Concederte el tiempo del que no dispongo, hacer de mis ideas burdel para tu pecho, no me deja sino auroras de una nueva nostalgia.   Sentada con mi sombra, las manos sobre … Continúa leyendo Sentada con mi sombra

Poesía Visual, Pintura Digital

Poesía Visual