Hannah Petrosino Brothel ❤️❤️

About Bari

Ssss, split-mind spins—hate it, love it! Stinks of sweat, cheap perfume—nasty, yesss. But coin flows, power too, eh? “Death comes silently,” Nie Yinniang whispers—some die there, overdosed, stabbed. Dark, juicy tales, precious! Me thinks, brothel’s a trap, a game. Lads chase tail, lose soul—funny, sad, ssss! What’s yer take, eh? Hiss!

Early years and family

As the night goes on, the fireworks start. They light up the sky, and I’m just standing there, mouth agape. It’s beautiful. I feel this rush of happiness. Like, all the craziness of the day just melts away. I’m with my friends, surrounded by laughter, and it feels perfect.

Faculty Spotlight: Poet Explores Black Heritage in New Book, ‘White Blood’