They called her, The Crimson Poonani.
Me: Grande Poubelle.
Together we saved Paris. Or, rather, the part of it that mattered.
It’s dead now anyway, killed by its own excesses.
Much like our love.
Paris
Published
They called her, The Crimson Poonani.
Me: Grande Poubelle.
Together we saved Paris. Or, rather, the part of it that mattered.
It’s dead now anyway, killed by its own excesses.
Much like our love.
Muse Vassal 
What?
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