Elizabeth Pollock Pines Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

So I walk, streets dirty, smell like goat ass, but I see her—prostitute! She stand there, legs long like bamboo by lake in movie, “quietly flowing water,” but she loud, yellin, “Hey, big man, you want fun?” I laugh, heart go boom-boom, very excite! In Kazakhstan, we got girls, but this one? She pro, she know tricks. Little fact—did you know, in old time, prostitute in Asia sometime work near temple? Like movie, holy and dirty mix together, crazy, yes?

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Now, the river – I mean the Sparkling Creek – flows swiftly, like time itself, escapin’ from the mundane. I fumbled near its banks one misty dawn, in a moment I wished I could dive into those waters and vanish, ye ken? Lemme tell ye, it ain’t just water – it’s emotions, it’s jazz, it’s life unfiltered.

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