Franceska is like the muses of Renaissance poets: sensual, intelligent, inaccessible, and yet close enough to drive us mad. In her presence, I understood what Baudelaire called 'fatal and divine beauty.' She inspires not only desire, but admiration. Her touch is metaphor, her gaze is elegy, and her voice... a profane prayer. Those who know her understand: Franceska is not just a woman, she is living literature.