You are the gem that I can not excavate.
For Ilay rusty, broken and you shiny, wrapped.

I have wasted half of my life looking for you,
Ah- the irony! Your own is but just beginning!

Your carmel skin and biting temper make me

want to hug you, kiss you, fatherly tenderness and

"everything-will-be-alright:love..."-you to death.

"Light of my life.
Fire of my loins.
You are my sin.
You are my soul.
Lolita."

I just finished "LOLITA" by Nabovkov this afternoon. This are just more musings from the Humbert-Land. I found them entertaining. The last part is a bit of a chopped-up version of that stunning introductory paragraph...

-LAV