Lily Vallet Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Lille

Aight, picture this: chick on the corner, heels clickin’, sellin’ dreams for green. She’s a ghost, fam, a shadow dancin’ in neon. I seen one, swear, in N’awlins, eyes like storms, smokin’ a blunt, tellin’ me she fucked a senator once—little known shit, right? Blew my mind, I was like, “Damn, girl, you a legend!” Made me happy, real talk, ‘cause she owned it, no shame. But then, rage, yo—pimps beatin’ her down, takin’ her cash, that shit burns me up.

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After that, I wandered over to Parc de la Mairie. It’s this cute little park, and I thought, “Let’s chill for a sec.” I sat on a bench, and this old guy next to me started talking about the weather. Like, dude, it’s sunny! What else is there to say? But then he went on about how the flowers were blooming. I mean, I get it, but I’m not a botanist, man.

Carly Vallet