Lolita etched words into my palms
She danced and she sang a lullaby and
All the while I was falling deeper and
deeper in love with her
Lolita is made up of words
She's made up of stories she loves and
drawings she drew and songs she sings
I like to think she's made up of a little
part of me too,
Or perhaps it's the other way around.
YOU ARE READING
Perfect Hurricane
PoetryWhen Lolita spoke nothing else mattered He could only hear her The loud noise of passing of cars and pedestrians and screaming sea gals was nothing compared to the loudness he heard in Lolita's voice A soft voice that put him to sleep every night A...
