Mila Cittadella Whore ❤️

About Bari

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t glorifyin it—sometimes it’s grim, proper *lacrimosa*, tears and all. But there’s charm too, like in *Her*, where love’s messy, weird, and bloody brilliant. Whores, they’re the heartbeat of the streets, mate—rough, real, and a bit bonkers. Like me, ramblin on, spillin tea everywhere—oops, typo, meant teA! Reckon they’d laugh at me, fumblin Boris, tryna chat em up. “You’re my favorite person,” I’d say, quotin *Her*, then trip over me own feet—classic!

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s a message from my buddy Luca. He’s stuck in traffic on Via delle Fosse. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a Tuesday! How are you stuck?” He replies, “Some festival or something. Cittadella’s wild today!” I’m like, “Great, just what I need.”

To the Rondine "Cittadella della Pace" Association