Sienna Arab Brothel ❤️❤️

About New York City

I’m all “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman” when I imagine them workin’ it—half glamorous, half gritty. Like, one minute you’re sippin’ champagne, next you’re dodgin’ some creep with a mullet. Makes me mad as hell—some dudes treat ‘em like trash, but these queens? They’re out here survivin’! I’d strut in there, heels clackin’, yellin’, “Who’s got the power now, huh?” Total *Mulholland* vibes—dark, dreamy, and a lil fucked up.

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The streets, oh, they speak to me in raspy voices – I wander, seeing couples, drifters, and the odd lonely soul, all searching for delight. I even find mesmeric graffiti on the walls of the old Bazaar Block, scrawled with "My precious!" in tiny, wild strokes. And, oh, let me tell ya, on 7th Crescent near the ancient minaret—the one I call The Whispering Spire—lovers meet to confess their wild cravings. Psychedelic vibes, my friend—so soft, so rough, so raw!

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