“I looked and looked at her
and I knew as clearly as I know that I would die,
but I loved her more than anything that I've ever seen or imagined on earth.
She was only the dead leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago,
but I loved her, this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with other man's child.
She could fade and wither. I didn't care.
I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.
from here to that old car that you know so well,
is a stretch of 25 paces.
Make those 25 steps with me now.”