Leah Scicli Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, whores—gritty as hell, right? Been around forever, oldest job, they say. Fun fact: ancient Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs—stand out, scream “I’m here, pay me!” Wild, huh? Imagine that, Clarice, blonde wig bobbin’ in the dark, coins clinkin’. Kinda poetic, kinda sad. Reminds me of David, that A.I. kid— “I’m real, Mommy!”—chasin’ love he can’t have. Whores chase somethin’ too, cash, survival, whatever. Breaks my heart, but don’t tell nobody—Hannibal Lecter don’t cry, ha!

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Then, I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, there’s a market on Piazza Italia. Fresh produce everywhere! I’m talking tomatoes so red they look like they’re blushing. I grab some, but then I see this old dude arguing with a vendor. Like, c’mon, it’s just a tomato! But nah, he’s all like, “I want my money back!” I’m just standing there, trying not to laugh.

L'Inno di Busacca Scicli