"Wanted, wanted, Dolores Haze.
Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet.
Age: five thousand three hundred days
Profession: none, or "starlet."
Where are you hiding, Dolores Haze?
Why are you hiding, Dolores Haze?
(I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze, I cannot get out, said the starling).
Wanted, wanted, Dolores Haze.
Her dream-grey gaze never flinches.
Ninety pounds is all she weighs
With a height of sixty inches.
And her socks are white, and I love her so,
And her name is Haze, Dolores.
My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap is the hardest,
And I shall be dumped where the weeds decay,
And the rest is rust and stardust."
YOU ARE READING
Lolita's Perception
General Fiction"𝙰 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊ï𝚟𝚎𝚝é 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑." ❁ ♡ ❁ ♡ ❁ This story is a direct take...
