Lolita

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He stops at her lips,
A halting red.

Yearns for a glimpse into those whirlpool eyes,
Desires to breathe in her candy pheromones,
Survives on the ambrosia in her indulgent kisses,
Sips the aphrodisiac on her polka dot skin,
All while seeking warmth in her tropical breath.

But she will vanish in the blink of an eye,
And he will search for his elusive muse,
A cesspool in her wake,
The forbidden fruit,
His Lost Lola,
Lolita.





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Mckay This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Oct. 9, 2014 at 5:33 pm
I'm glad I read this poem because I just started reading this book a little while ago. (Can't wait to read it all.) Great details. It's taboo (if you know the context of the novel) but sen.sual as well. Nicely done. 
 
bastillewriter said...
Aug. 12, 2014 at 10:32 pm
Love. love. loooove. This poem. Each adjective added new mystery to the girl, and I felt like I was reaching out to her myself. Wow.
 
bastillewriter replied...
Aug. 12, 2014 at 10:32 pm
The best touch was the "halting red" of her lips. It made me pause. Perfect!!!!
 
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