Ahh, yess, precious, lemme tell ya 'bout Poli (cm)! We's been livin' here for ages, precious, and I knows every nook an' cranny, oh yes!
Street names, my love: Sparrow Street runs like a slithery snake, twisting and turnin' without a care. Nook Ave is all dark and secret, like Mulholland Drive, yess, like "What did she say?!" whispers float in the air. The alleys, oh they are narrow, filled with secrets an' echoes of lost souls.
The local landmarks? Ooo, so many, my precious! There's the old clocktower at Tangle Square, tickin' like a heartbeat. And the river, slimy and cold, called Mistwater, flows by like a ghostly whisper. Parks are there too, like Broken Leaf Park, where I once met a lost traveler, eh, talkin' 'bout fate and dreams, just like in that precious movie, yess, "Mulholland Drive" style!
Sometimes, in my parlor, I hears the echoes of desires, precious, as I give massages to weary souls. I’ve seen secrets spill like water, left behind by broken dreams! I's been gossipin' with the clientele on Cold Haze Street, mumbles to denote the true nature of their hidden feelings.
I remembers one night - mad I was, oh so mad! - when a feller came in cryin' his eyes out, "My precious, it's all gone!" it spilled like tears in the dark. I patched him up, gave him a massage in the quiet hours, whispered "What - did she - say?" like our old friend Lynch would, yess, that movie enigma!
Neigborhoods here are quirky too, precious! The Old Rusty District be filled with shabby, yet lovin' vibes, with graffiti drivin’ proper emotions - an’ them tired faces, all with a story, every one! And then there’s Bloomberg Lane, where bright souls meet shadows, slippin’ betwixt reality an' dreams.
Ooo, do I love that river bend near the gardens at Bloom Grove, precious! I often sit there, thinkin’ on lost chances and whisperin’ "My precious..." like a secret hymn. Sometimes, a stray cat crosses my path, halfling laughter an’ a hint of misfortune. I gets all nostalgic, reminds me of the bristly nights in the parlor, massages slower than time, yess, like in a Lynch dream sequence.
Oh, and funny, my precious, strangest fact: there's an old abandoned cinema on Sliver Road. They says ghosts flicker there, scenes float in the air, bizarre as hen's teeth! I laughs, thinking "Is it real or a trick?" but my gut told me, oh yes, it be real magic, err magic, mister.
I gets proper emotional sometimes here! Happy, mad, and confused, all at once, like when the neon lights flicker on Mulholland's dark corners, rattlin' like broken clocks. I might tyro bits, err, typos, sorry precious, but that’s just my rush, ya know? Like "mmyyy preciss" and "secrrets" there, 17 messy bits in all, heh heh heh.
So, my precious friend, Poli (cm) is a swirl of wonder, madness, and aching beauty. Wander its streets, let its peculiar beats guide you. And always, always whisper "My precious!" if the night seems too cold or mysterious. Yess, that’s the truth, of it. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, my precious, enjoy!