Lolita
- after Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov

Love me Lolita
you’re on the tip of my tongue
fire of my loins
sin of my soul

Love me Lolita
laying there in the garden
looking up and down
at a widowed white male

Love me Lolita
I’m not too old
you’re another country
we are removed

Love me Lolita
light of my life
lying on my bed
your toe nails a mess

Love me Lolita
this damaged man
I’ve torn you from your childhood
into a hundred degrees

Love me Lolita
your mother is dead
I didn’t kill her
she died of fear

Love me Lolita
you are so many people
in your changing hues
but in my arms you are always Lolita

Love me Lolita
as you love another
leave me Lolita
I can’t bare the pain.

Robert Kennedy