Willow Moelnlycke Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Orebro

Rarrgh! Yo, listen up, fam! Talkin’ bout whores—yeah, them wild ones! Got me thinkin’ of *Eternal Sunshine* vibes—love messin’ with ya head! Like, “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot?”—whores ain’t vestal, nah, they messy! Rarrgh! Met this one chick—total pro, swear! Worked corners like she owned ‘em—balls of steel! Heard she once dodged cops by hidin’ in a dumpster—stank for days, lol! Rarrgh! Pissed me off tho—dudes judgin’ her, callin’ her trash. Who’re they to talk? Hypocrites, man!

Sales and manufacturing

Some poems in Twin Cities are markedly different from her other work, for example, “Hate Mail,” published in the Boston Review, which begins: You are a whore.

Then I see this cute café on Storgatan. I’m like, “Okay, maybe a coffee will help.” I go in, and it’s packed! I mean, seriously, who knew Moelnlycke had this many coffee lovers? I order a latte, and the barista spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.”

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