Bella Vincent Whore ❤️

About San Diego

Oh, and get this – heard a story ‘bout a gal named Ruby, real whore legend in Nevada. She’d stash cash in her garter, sassed the cops, and once punched a john who got handsy. Total badass! Surprised me how she owned it – no shame, just grit. I’d be like, “Ruby, you’re my kinda dame!” Makes me giggle thinkin’ she’d prob’ly call Bob from the movie a square.

Letter 16, page 3

I cruise down Larkin Street, ya know? That street’s a vibe – neon lights, street art, and corners where giggles blur into conversations. Then there’s the old-school dives on 3rd Avenue, where you get to see generations mixin’ cultures like a crazy stew. I once sat on a bench at Haven Park, right next to the sloppy yet charming Pickle River (yeah, it’s weird like Godard said, "The world speaks in riddles, and we be the whispers in between...").

The Poetry Challenge Day 5: We’ve learned a poem this week. Now it’s yours.