momentum for the sake of momentum.

I want pharaohs. Somehow there's only men.

Faster than the speed of sound, I am left fatherless. My soul is dangling outside my mouth. It's never enough; I am a tornado of love. My love has never lived indoors, I've had to drag it home by force with hired hounds at both my wrists, damp and bruised with strangers on my lips. I can't give up acting tough, it's all I'm made of. I can't scrape together quite enough to ride the bus to the outskirts of the fact that I need undying love. A tornado filing past, miles down, miles away from home, cheek constantly frozen to the floor. Thoughts dry above on the ceiling, in dreams I find long shadows and gunpowder eyes. Like sounds of a humming helicopter, blades of a fan warn this child to wake. Come on sorrow, take your own advice, hide under the bed, turn out the lights, the stars this night in the sky are ringing out. You can almost hear them: "Close your eyes now kid, evening teeth are lit." There is a forcefield around my frosty hips, there is time for my tonuge and lips. If it's madness, let it run. If this blood runs crazy, I will not water it down. A warning call quiet within, a voice trying harder than imaginable: "She is the centrifuge that throws spires to the sun. She is the Sisteen Chapel painted with a gun." Soon the meddling sky and these snowy eyes will sway to something more than regret.