Fatima Zawoja Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wroclaw

Once saw her slap a drunk sailor—WHACK!—sent him sprawlin’. “I saved my soul,” she grins, like Eli Cash braggin’ bout his book. Ballsy as hell! Made me happy, seein’ her fight back. But then—fuck—next week she’s got a black eye. Some cunt got rough. I’m fumin’, wanna gut the bastard, but she shrugs, “Part o’ the gig.” That’s when I knew—world’s a shithole, and she’s still standin’.

Dom wakacyjny, Zawoja

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So, I plop down on my couch, and I’m like, “What a day!” I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Zawoja, you crazy little town, you’ve got my heart. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Dorota Lampart – A Portrait of a Naive Artist