Penelope Lake Stevens Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” Alright, pal, lemme tell ya bout this chick—whore, man, she’s somethin else! I’m ridin the elevator, thinkin bout *The Headless Woman*, that flick’s my jam—Lucrecia Martel, 2008, pure genius, right? Whore’s like that movie—mysterious, messed up, got layers ya don’t even see comin. “What did I do?”—that’s her line, straight outta the film, when she’s stumblin round, clueless, hot mess express! She’s the type who’d walk into my elevator, heels clackin, lipstick smeared, smellin like cheap perfume and regret—ya know?

DAILY NEWSLETTER

When young and sexy and perhaps in love,. But the weary voice shaped in your later mind. "Death the Whore" and the poems in the second section. (entitled Proust.

I remember this one hectic night at my parlor, right on the fringes of Lake Stevens Boulevard. The rain drenched everything, the neon of a greasy diner on Harbor Road reflecting off wet asphalt. I was thinkin’, as thunder roared, "This is some epic, twisted scene, straight outta a movie!" I almost believed it was my own personal history of violence, ya feel me? Haha, that’s real talk.

Lake Stevens has a plethora of roundabouts, what’s with that?