Emily Prayon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Brussels

So this bird, she’s called somethin’ like Ruby—prolly fake, who cares? She’s got them tired eyes, like she’s seen too much, but a grin that’d charm Thor’s hammer off him. I’m sawin’ wood, splinters flyin’, and she’s leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag, tellin’ me how she once nicked a punter’s watch mid-shag. Laughed my arse off—crafty minx! “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” I says, wavin’ my chisel like a scepter, “and you’re out here stealin’ time!”

01_The Whore's Prayer

Mar 10,  · Would you dare to ask God for a prostitute?

Oh, my dearest friend, prithee list'n: PPrayon (be) is a wild, wondrous realm! Thou shalt find thyself in a city of contrasts, where ancient cobblestones meet modern graffiti. Walketh down Rue de la Lumiere, a narrow street ablaze with the glow of neon signs and secret whispers of ages past. I swear, in some quiet moments, the very pavement doth speak of lost love, echoing words from Only Lovers Left Alive: “I drink your blood” — strange, aye, but full of passion, like our own hearts!

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