Saturday, July 31, 2010


Lolita the little
What do you seek in these ghastly arms that only harm you?
The fingers of those hands prey and curl around your waist
tossing you treats of affection
laying a trail of goods you cannot refuse
and he's laughing his head off
You are too young for your own boundaries
you grow a part in him, like a gnarled root, in your stomach
leeching on your spirit, feeding eternally
Lolita, you're not a treasure
and he's drinking your face off

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