Orange yells out at me.

Orange became.
Was it scarlet or the boldness
of chili pepper fusing madly
with soft cornsilk?
Or did they take turns
With her silky strands?

Orange is at times
almost asleep,
a syrupy copper
tainted with cinnamon.

Orange
can wake and scream.

Deep down orange is dangerous,
its harsh edges sharp;
its motion chaotic as it reaches
out to me and screams
a cruel twisted bloodthirsty
howl.

Orange.  A Judas to my retina;
a Hitler to my mind.

Passion Contents