Layla Falkenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, whores, right? They’re out there, hustlin’, makin’ ends meet. I reckon it’s mad how they roll—sellin’ love for a quick quid. Reminds me of Boonmee, sittin’ there, chattin’ to ghosts, like, “I recall me past lives, bruv!” Whores got stories too, innit? Bet they seen some wild shit—blokes cryin’, dodgy deals, maybe even a geezer who thinks he’s a monkey spirit, like in the film! “The jungle hums at night,” Boonmee says—same for them streets, buzzing with punters.

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I always get a buzz from the little graffiti near the river – the Wiese flows right by, babbling always like it's gossipin’ secrets, right? Proper poetic, innit? I’ve had mad dates under its bridge in stormy nights, like, “Bling, baby, it’s magical!” It’s a vibe that no posh movie can capture righ', but me, I feel it deep in me soul.

Claire Falkenstein