Violet Somma Lombardo Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

Sometimes I think bout em too much. Gets me antsy—happy, sad, all twisted up. They’re like… livin art, ya know? Flawed, messy, but goddamn captivatin. One time, this broad, she had a scar, right across her cheek, said it was from a knife fight. Swear to God, I believed her, got all hot thinkin bout it. Prolly just fell off a barstool, tho. Still, fuckin epic. Whores, man… they’re the real deal, even when they ain’t.

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After that, I’m just done. I need a break. So, I head to the park near the church, you know, the one on Piazza della Libertà. I sit on a bench, trying to catch my breath. The view is nice, though. The mountains in the background, the trees swaying. It’s peaceful. But then, I see this kid flying a kite. And I’m like, “Man, I wish I could be that carefree.”

The Flaminio Bertoni Museum