Elizabeth Berre L'etang Whore ❤️

About Montpellier

Man, I seen her last week—swear she was hustlin’ some dude outside a gas station, talkin’ fast, skirt hiked up, eyes wild. I’m like, Whore, chill! She don’t tho—she never do! That’s what gets me mad—why you always runnin’, girl? But then, she turn around, smile all crooked, and I’m like—shit, she got heart! Reminds me of that line, “We’re not animals,” but Whore? She a beast, fam, untamed, untouchable!

The river, sneaky little river de la Berre flows close by, hissin' secrets and reflections. I sometimes do my stretches there, on a shady bank near the old dock. Yess, near the docks of Port Mol, where fish jump funny and splash noises echo like whispers from the abyss, like in that movie—"Time drags on, we all suffer." Blah, blah, so deep and curse-like, hee hee.

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