* An original poem, inspired by a song *Dearest little Lolita,
The water of life, the water of torrential lovers.
Known as Lo or Lola. . .
Although different, it's all the same to her.
Often called malicious,
My hot-tempered doll - wrapped up in shrink wrap.
Half cotton wool, the other half stainless steel.
Innocent as a lamb, yet with razor sharp edges.
Pure and untainted,
Yet corrupt and cruel.
When at night she dreams of wolves,
It's poor Lola who bleeds.
They say "Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets",
And when your tongue slips, you shriek your wild belly laugh.
As wild as a phenomenon - like a banshee's scream,
And you'll surrender yourself when you see them all.
With detrimental emerald eyes,
You'll pull on your stockings of a red disintegrated hue.
My femme fatale - Although a goddess to many,
Poor Lolita is merely my porcelain treasure.
Lo or Lolita, be it different or the same,
I'll cradle her like a Christmas bauble - as something fragile.
Because whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,
She's my dearest little Lolita. . .
* Original image is mine. I created and Photoshopped it *
