Satire

A Roy Moore Love Letter Inspired by Nabokov’s Lolita

Lolita, Leigh, Debbie, Wendy, Gloria, Beverly, Tina, Gena, Becky, Lolita. Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. She was Debbie, plain Debbie, in the morning, at the courthouse, standing four feet ten with her momma. She was Gloria, in a pretty summer dress. She was Wendy at the Gadsden Mall in 1977. She was Beverly at her daddy’s house. Then, in my arms she was Gena, Tina, Becky, and then always, always Lolita, Lolita, at the schoolhouse. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child.

Lolita, to a sweeter, more beautiful girl I could not say Merry Christmas.

Love,

Roy Moore, D.A.

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