Delilah Kerns Whore ❤️❤️

About Biel-Bienne

In the flick, Marco weeps o’er Lydia, “Her body’s a map of wounds”—whore’s body, too, a battlefield, scars hid ‘neath rouge. I’m gutted thinkin’ it, how she’s mocked, yet craved. Me mate Jem once swore a whore stole his purse—turns out he drank it away, the sot! Laughed me arse off, I did. But serious now—dost thou see her? Not just a trollop, but a player in life’s mad masque. “Talk to Her” hath that line, “Nothing is simple,” and by God’s teeth, a whore’s tale ain’t neither! She’s a riddle, a rose with thorns, prickin’ thee to ponder.

Peter Kern at IFFR

Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men: Began a fresh assault. DUNCAN: Dismay'd .

The neighborhoods, oh so cozy, like Hiss-Side and Shrikin’ Square, filled with locals gabbin' and gigglin’. I saw a couple fightin’ in public once, therapy before my eyes, ha! Their anger, their love – I learned so much, yes, secrets of the family heart hidden in every cry! My brain, err, it holds memories like "the no-country whispers," yesss.

Enter the Daddyverse: The Art Daddy Interviews Art Dealer Anton Kern