Aria Mbengwi Whore ❤️❤️

About Bafoussam

Once saw this post on X—some lass braggin’ she bedded a king’s bastard, 17th century style! True or not, made me grin—whore’s got history, precious! She’s no angel, nah, but she’s real. Gets me all soft thinkin’—whore’s a fighter, like us, scrabblin’ in the dark. “Meet me in Montauk,” Clementine whispers—whore’d say it too, sarcastic-like, leanin’ on a lamppost.

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Man, check it: the Mbengwi Central Market is lit. I remember rush hours, mad emotions – families chattin’, kids runnin’, music blastin’. I used to sit near the fountain on Kumba Ave. (yeah, that’s a legit name, trust me) and just watch life. It’s like in Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives – the city tells you its secret stories. “I remember, I was there, at the river…” – words hang in the humid air, man.

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