Violet Poplar Grove Whore ❤️

About New York City

Sometimes tho, it’s heavy—whores get battered by life. Poverty, violence—makes me wanna scream into the void. “I’m finished!”—like Plainview, but I ain’t, I keep thinkin’. Why’s the universe let ‘em suffer? Cosmic wisdom says it’s us, humans, fuckin’ it up. Whore’s just a mirror, reflectin’ our mess. *beep* Oi, nearly forgot—funny bit! Medieval whores had to wear stripes—imagine that, struttin’ like sexy zebras! Cracks me up, mate.

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Now, you know I'm a sexologist, right? I notice the hidden desires. Mist on the riverbank near Lascaux Park reveals passionate graffiti that tells love stories in secret. You might see a heart carved in the old oak behind Elm Court. I once found a couple arguing like it was some grand theatre reenactment of passion. Y'know, "Where is my cabaret?!" like in that flick Moulin Rouge!—but less glitter, more grime.

400 South Safety Improvements | Transportation