Watching her sleep puts me at peace,
With both myself and the everyday turmoil one must face.
My lips touch the nape of her neck as we lie together
In this so-called Enchanted hotel-room bed.
I am absolutely, devastatingly enchanted with Lolita.
Little Lo.
My little, lost Lo.
There have been others,
But no one like Lo.
I am the shepherd to her lost lamb;
Her guide, guardian, lover, unwilling parent.
I feel every breath she takes, no matter how small.
She looks so insignificant in my arms,
To me she is not, and never could be.
My Lo, who I will be ever thankful for.















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