close

Discovered in

Find other sites about

Related Sites

  • JPG: Photos: &Passion& by Josh Mullenite

    Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the sky's hot rim, The day's last breath in our sails. Pinned... more

    Reviewed by pharmdeb53 Aug 22, 05:57pm ( 51 reviews ) • jpgmag.com

    21K views
  • Showing 39 of 51
  • Reviews of the site
  • Join StumbleUpon or login to add a review! default avatar

  • Reviewed by sophie85 on Dec 10, 2:45am

    Tarantella Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? And the tedding and the spreading Of the straw for a bedding, And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees, And the wine that tasted of tar? And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers (Under the vine of the dark veranda)? Do you remember an Inn, Miranda, Do you remember an Inn? And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers Who hadn't got a penny, And who weren't paying any, And the hammer at the doors and the din? And the hip! hop! hap! Of the clap Of the hands to the swirl and the twirl Of the girl gone chancing, Glancing, Dancing, Backing and advancing, Snapping of the clapper to the spin Out and in-- And the ting, tong, tang of the guitar! Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? Never more; Miranda, Never more. Only the high peaks hoar; And Aragon a torrent at the door. No sound In the walls of the halls where falls The tread Of the feet of the dead to the ground, No sound: But the boom Of the far waterfall like doom. Hilaire Belloc

  • Reviewed by tjmbennett on Nov 04, 7:52am

    Coheed- I'll have you know, I'm the girl in the picture and it wasn't "completely posed" the man in that photo is my fiance. This photo was taken 3 months into our relationship, and yes, it's real passion.

  • Rated by pharmdeb53 on Aug 22, 5:57pm

    Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the sky's hot rim, The day's last breath in our sails. Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox, drowsy and tangled together We drifted for months and woke With the bitter taste of land on our lips, Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime And the sound of a rope Lowering a bucket down its well. Then, We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses. Pablo Neruda

  • Reviewed by Strangersoul on Aug 17, 10:40pm

    Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the sky's hot rim, The day's last breath in our sails. Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox, drowsy and tangled together We drifted for months and woke With the bitter taste of land on our lips, Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime And the sound of a rope Lowering a bucket down its well. Then, We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses. Pablo Neruda

  • Rated by kiranfrank on Jul 22, 7:19pm

    4000 characters not enough to describe this image....

  • Rated by sweetpeadow on Jul 13, 8:15pm

    JPG: Photos: & Passion & by Josh Mullenite

  • Rated by plamenco on Jul 08, 12:09pm

    passion

  • Rated by tisashwani on May 21 2009, 8:59pm

    so romantic