Eliza Crotone Whore ❤️❤️

About Rome

Alright, here we go, happy little trees! So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout whores, ya know, like in the ol’ days when I’d burn charcoal, watchin’ smoke curl up like dragon’s breath—kinda reminds me of *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*. That movie, man, it’s my jam! Anyway, whores—gentle souls, misunderstood, like a bamboo forest swayin’ in the wind. “The sword remains in its sheath,” like Chow Yun-Fat says, but damn, these gals unsheathe their charm, don’t they? Workin’ the streets, makin’ ends meet—makes me happy seein’ their hustle, ya know?

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By the time the sun starts setting, I’m exhausted. I head back through Via Vittorio Veneto, and it’s all lit up. The lights are twinkling, and I’m feeling all sentimental. Crotone, you crazy town, you’ve got my heart.

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