Gabriella Ambleve Whore ❤️❤️

About Namur

One day, she don’t show. Weeks pass—nada. I’m thinkin’, “Where’s my lil’ fish?” Maybe she got out, found her reef, or maybe some shark got her. Breaks my damn heart. I exaggerate sometimes, sure—say she fought off ten cops with them heels—but truth is, she’s a survivor, like Nemo, lost but scrappy. “Mine, mine, mine,” them seagulls’d say, but she ain’t nobody’s to claim.

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Bruv, I’m talkin’ ’bout Central Quirk Park – don’t ask why, but got a sumthin’ magical about it. Like, ever seen a river spill nappies on da way? Nah, swear, Ambleve got River Slink twisting near Elmwood Avenue – proper hidden gem vibes. Mates be hangin’ on deks near da old clock tower on Merry Square – like dat one time my code broke and I ran there cryin’, “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and Spring...” – sound bad? I felt that deep, it’s like life loop, innit.

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