Hannah Spring Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, whores—where do I start? Been around forever, right? Oldest gig in the book, they say—prolly ‘cause it’s true. Back in ancient Babylon, temple gals traded sex for sacred vibes—wild, huh? Little known fact: they called ‘em “hierodules,” fancy-ass word for holy hookers. Blows my mind, man, how it was all tied to gods ‘n’ shit. Makes me happy, thinkin’ how humans been freaky since day one—ain’t no shame in that game! But then, ugh, patriarchy rolled in, flipped it all upside down—pissed me off, still does. Whores went from sacred to scorned, like, how you gonna do that?

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Rivkah the Whore, The Spring After. poetry by Yael Mesinai. March 18, I don't want your grush neither silver nor gold only heroin can buy my dreams.

I mean, look at the Riverflow by Eastside. The water's got a pulse. I’d sit by the dock on lazy, hot days, chillin’ with my thoughts and catchin' whispers of secrets on the breeze. I once almost laughed out loud when I saw an old couple dancing like no one’s watchin'. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” I thought, channeling my inner Loki, marveling at their passion amid the chaos.

Spring storm arrives in Colorado, bringing rain and snow through Wednesday