Artvizyon
Rated • 0 reviews • music • artvizyon.com
Last seen: 2 months ago
Gokce is a 29 year old guy from Eskisehir, Turkey
Welcome. Here you'll find technology stuff, pages about renewable energy, sites about writing and some pictures to lure unaware stumblers in. You might even Vote for me. The archives: 10 | 20 | 30 | 40 | 50 | 60 | 70 | 80 | 90 | 100 | 110 |
Rated • 1 review • health, science, sexuality • medscape.com

This picture above is from da Vinci's notes. 
MR picture above is couple while copulation. I'm not sure what good that research is but its interesting. If site asks for sign in use bugmenot.
I haven't taged that as adult, because MR pictures are not nudity.
Rated • 1 review • mystery novels • myway.com

Rated • 2 reviews • humor, video • youtube.com
Rated • 1 review • arts • bibi.org
From the page="It looks like body art, photography and an impressive work of artistic patterns, maybe a colourful lace work as a second skin. It's difficult to define the work of Marco Guerra and Yasmina Alaoui, anyway, it's wonderful."
Rated • 1 review • graphic design • laurencedawes.com
Laurence Dawes has exciting designs. Sloffe and watch for swatch are a must see.
Rated • 1 review • arts • imagesofeyes.com

Rated • 1 review • arts, watercolor • imagesofeyes.com

Rated • 1 review • literature, poem • boun.edu.tr
From the page: "
Enis Batur
ELEGIES: THE SARCOPHAGUS OF MOURNING WOMEN
Aglayan Kadinlar Lahdi (1993). Istanbul: Harf Yayinlari.
Viator, viator!
-- Carmina Epigraphica
I
If one day you should die,
that very instant on my sky
would be etched a meteor of flame,
here, in the caravan creaking from town to town,
is the tent I folded and put away,
the anticipation I kept
in a riddle pitched from day to night
at each precise oasis secretly left behind,
the water's song will not vainly trail
this drop from the spring
--unheard lyre.
II
If ever I should feel, the memory
of touch crusted over--how long!--
will stir and tremble on my skin,
a long shudder shake the clock-spring
that held its breath in a dark nook
and the panes of all the windows in me break,
now one's been opened;
the hourglass I reversed and set aside
will swagger up, each grain of sand prepared
to melt in my fountain: there was a time, once,
you left this land in sorrow."
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