Angelina Mirabela Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Sao Paulo

I’m stoked when I kill it, tho. Pull it up, roots and all—satisfyin’ as hell. But then, whoa, next day? More of ‘em. Like, dude, chill! Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What can you do?” Nothin’, man, just keep fightin’. Ever try burnin’ it? Stinks like ass, don’t do it. Learned that the hard way, coughin’ my lungs out.

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Her fashion work has made her one of this magazine's favorites, but her true gift is for exploring society's margins. In so doing she creates images at once.

So, my dear friend, Mirabela’s streets are spicy, its parks full of hidden embrace and secret kisses, its cafes whisperin’ gossip of love and lust. It’s a city where even the city walls pulse with desire. I sometimes get mad at the bureaucracy over on Avenida Brisa, as delays just kill the groove—but hey, every city’s got its quirks, right?

Swallow is an ode to Carlo Mirabella-Davis's grandmother, mental illness, and grasping for control