Nabokov coughs.
Lolita passes through the ages
Captured, in a novel’s pages.
The novelty of sin
Wears thin.
Is there a heart
To find behind
This dark art.
Nabokov coughs.
Lolita passes through the ages
Captured, in a novel’s pages.
The novelty of sin
Wears thin.
Is there a heart
To find behind
This dark art.
I don’t think people ever tire of sin, Kevin. Have a lovely weekend.
Thanks for your comment, Robbie and your interpretation of my poem. You to, have a lovely weekend. Kevin
Vivian Darkbloom