Lolita, or the death of Nabokov

Nubile young flesh splashed onto a photograph as he stood mouth agape
Hips too young to be looked at but eyes knowing something of fear
He is a briefcase in hand a case of yet another broken-hearted boy justified in his maggot desires
Forbidden flesh presented to a retching butcher he still has blood on his penis and death of the last young woman scratches on his arms
Spear in hand he waits his turn in a room upstairs reeking of gold shoe polish and money cologne

An all too convenient car crash emptied the house of protective mechanism every wall can fall prey they are pastel colored even the sink is a virgin
That morning when doves fly off to never come back the swan the wolf the man invades the maiden’s chamber
He first ties up the lone teddy bear paralyzed by fear spread eagled on the bed and cuts a hole in his furry privates and rams away
The pink humidifier sweats and begs him to stop tears condensed onto every surface his face the window the teddy bear oh the teddy bear

And right before he breaks he stops and stands up to survey where she may be
The sole object of his midnight nightmares he ached to death for crying in black nights
Her blood to accompany his ascension to heaven little death BIG DEATH teeth flashed as he thinks he smells something
The floorboards creaked

She appeared behind him thick black locks flowing down spilling onto the floor hissing no pupils to be seen in her eyes
Stone became a rapid disease fatal arrow pointed infection toenails spleen tip of tongue right ear he screams as the teddy bear suddenly grew bigger and bigger
And bigger

The last thing he hears was the pleasurable moaning of the nubile young flesh the last thing he saw was her wet lips covered with her virginal blood served like a spoon from her fingertips as she orgasms

 

Painting by René Magritte, “Young Girl Eating a Bird”, 1927

 

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