orange light

sometimes we spin so fast we forget we are whirlwinds. Until the dust gets in our eyes. My circles grew concentric until i was turned on my head. Staring inwards instead of across. Confronted with the obscenity of my desires. My lists hang flacid, redundant. I am scratching through the dot points into finer detail. All that is superfluous drifts into the ether. I am left with enough to call my own'.