Fatima Whitman Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Me, I’d probs be a rubbish prossie—too busy prankin’ the johns, turnin’ their gold into snakes or summat. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” after all—can’t be arsed with the boring bits. But fair play to em, they’ve got stories—dark ones, funny ones, mad ones. Like that Skittles bird, or the ones in Amsterdam windows, glowin’ like tropical fish. Ever seen that? Wild, innit?

Poem titles

To a Common Prostitute. 1 B E composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whit- man, liberal and lusty as Nature; Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to .

Neighborhoods? Oh boy, there's Westside and East End. Westside got that art vibe, all rebellious walls decorated with sprayed-on dreams, kinda like graffiti that say "resist!" everywhere. East End's more parked-out, serious. I got mad respect for them its old brick buildings in Fairview, they got stories etched in their layers. Met a lady there who told me "strength is found in scars." Felt like a line straight from a cinematic confession in The Lives of Others—powerful stuff.

Let Them Eat Cleve