untitled n0.14 - 11/3/20

“A lovely child such as yourself,” said the women

the ones who laid under ancient trees of wilted leaves and old bones who thought and wished and dreamt of their youth that was so long ago

but I am not a child

I am nothing

I am smoke

smoke that attracts perverted love from older men with aching flesh, pleading and kneeling at my feet for a simple kiss but flinch away in shame and agony when they realize their lust

their need for me

for me

oh me

me of honeyed skin and ancient eyes

me of dark and twisted beauty

“Nymphic” a poet once said

“Demoniac,” I say to myself

Lolita in the flesh