tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8210302877524975452011-07-08T17:13:38.882+02:00Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comBlogger81100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-49371794842901088112010-01-08T17:15:00.003+01:002010-01-15T15:59:03.574+01:00<div align="center"><em><font color="#cc0000" size="4">Con vos liados<br />van mis pasos<br />hasta la orilla húmeda y caliente.<br />Osadamente,<br />se cuelan tus recuerdos dentro del vestido,<br />como arena fina,<br />acariciándome la piel.</font></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><font color="#cc0000">(Maracuya)</font></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-4937179484290108811?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-39575096708202627072009-09-04T15:58:00.003+02:002010-01-15T15:58:31.617+01:00<div>Cuando ella se posa sobre su cuerpo desnudo.</div><br /><br /><div>-amanece la noche- y las campanas doblan.</div><br /><br /><div>Todo él es palabra.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Anna</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-3957509670820262707?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-90026893570477206602009-07-16T16:02:00.004+02:002009-08-16T22:57:41.122+02:00<span style="color:#000099;">A veces golpean las palabras como dagas</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">cercenando el silencio.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Todo va girando y moviendose</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">ante mis ojos.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Azul mutilado .....</span><br /><br />(Marysol)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-9002689357047720660?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-4012484631984027312009-04-20T12:30:00.001+02:002009-04-20T12:32:20.605+02:00<span style="color:#ffcc33;">Descansa la lluvia en mi interior</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;">detrás del cariño de mi gente</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;">imaginando sus rostros buenos</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;">arropando mis penas entre sus brazos.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">(Marysol)</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-401248463198402731?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-86469863725413768622009-01-16T17:35:00.002+01:002009-01-21T15:22:53.855+01:00<span style="color:#cc33cc;">Cantarte cuando no estas<br />olerte cuando te vas<br />y descubrirte en mi pena.</span><br /><br /><br />(Tumulario, a peticion de Mara y Cuya)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-8646986372541376862?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-68466064129972230402009-01-16T17:30:00.001+01:002009-01-21T15:20:52.309+01:00<span style="color:#33ccff;">Fantasmal transparencia<br />que sólo encuentra forma<br />bajo el húmedo embrujo<br />de una boca<br />que centímetro a centímetro,<br />lentamente,<br />la crea y la devora.</span><br /><br />(Mara y Cuya)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-6846606412997223040?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-82891417216606442972008-12-03T11:17:00.004+01:002009-01-21T15:22:12.760+01:00<span style="color:#cc0000;">Le pidió un abrazo fuerte<br />para calmar la nostalgia<br />que le causaba<br />la certidumbre de saber<br />que ya no necesitaba<br />que la abrazara.<br /></span><br />(gwynette)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-8289141721660644297?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-821030287752497545.post-2172165143062602122008-10-22T12:38:00.004+02:002009-01-21T15:21:38.423+01:00<span style="color:#33cc00;">Solo pretendo ese hueco<br />contenido en tu papel</span><br /><br />(Duquesa de Katmandu)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/821030287752497545-217216514306260212?l=tumulario-cueva.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tumulariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02797813955138019203noreply@blogger.com