Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth.
Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
Macarena. Only 18 (but she walks the street so mean). Spain. Ballet. Arctic Monkeys, Queen, Vetusta Morla, Supersubmarina, Love of Lesbian, Florence + The Machine, Lana del Rey. In love with Gaspard Ulliel.