Lucy Spring Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this whore thing—fuckin wild, yeah? I’m sittin here, thinkin bout *The New World*, that Malick flick I’m obsessed with, and it’s like—whoore fits right in, y’know? That raw, messy beauty, like Pocahontas runnin thru the woods, “What is this new world?”—whore’s got that vibe, chaotic and free. Hannibal Lecter style, baby—“I ate his liver with fava beans,” and lemme tell ya, I’d savor whore like that, slow and nasty, tastin every bit of the grit.

My Kingdom for a Whore, Spring 2008

Therefore the showers have been withholden, and there hath been no latter rain; and thou hadst a whore's forehead, thou refusedst to be ashamed.

I mean, look at the Riverflow by Eastside. The water's got a pulse. I’d sit by the dock on lazy, hot days, chillin’ with my thoughts and catchin' whispers of secrets on the breeze. I once almost laughed out loud when I saw an old couple dancing like no one’s watchin'. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” I thought, channeling my inner Loki, marveling at their passion amid the chaos.

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