The sunset looks beautiful at twilight,
piercing through the underbelly of clouds,
the sky painting vehement, orange light
against the darkened faces of the crowd.
We listen to the sound of a sitar play
and feel the rapture of the beating drum.
Everything the spirit could want to say
is spoken by the motions fingers strum,
reverberating through the evening air,
and those who move to its smooth harmony.
I hold you close, sway with your gentle care.
True beauty is this rhythm, dancing free,
far from the dissonance a dark world cries,
an orange glow reflected in your eyes.

Like your orange bowl
of sweets and sweet love
    It’s part of me now

              No way Jose, No way.

Like the place we first met
that begins with B
    Let’s go back tonight

              No way Jose, No way.

Because all the dogs down in here
smell your disdain
    And say

              No way Jose, No way.

This boat’s going to sink
so let’s get drunk
    and love

              On this day Jose, On this day.

All the leaves are leaving,
they fall when in fall,
seasoning our season
before the winter's call.

Grounds littered with orange,
ready for the red
mellowed with yellow,
before a white winter is fed.

“i set out to find a rhyme for orange
but all I could think of was door hinge
unless you’ve heard of the mountains of blorange
in which case you’re a fool”

and for a brief moment
i could see, for the first time, with my own eyes
the brilliance of that most worn and beaten
orange notebook
it sat there, on the floor
and i could feel its pain
all the years of torment
expressed openly upon the pages within
the anguish of grief
the sadness of loss
the fear and hatred of death
i could feel all of the emotions that had been bottled up inside
and it was simply overwhelming
all of that emotion
locked away inside
held slovenly together
by a single, thin, rusting wire
and encased by a brilliant, tattered, and fading orange cover
i suppose it is only proper
that the cover of that notebook be
orange
one of the few words in the english language
that simply doesn’t rhyme

i.
I imagine the lemon sun rays
Beaming on the fronts of my eyelids;
An illusion, an iridescent glow
Forms around my wandering mind.

Ii.
The careless waves floated in
An orange peculiar pattern.
I reach;
Calling the name of my prospect.

Iii.
A hollow echo, the end of a passage
revealed in the saturated aura;
Crimson tangerine amber cobalt indigo
bleeding into a soft ivory

Iv.
The days soon return their structure
Beckoning my name in the breeze
Opening my eyes from the somber dusk,
Unlocking the ebullience from the earth.

one day everything will be just how i like it.
itll be warm but not too much.
the bed will be soft and so will the duvet and the light
and you'll be right there by my side.
because we know what we have.
our bond our trust will exceed all else.
ill have no words to describe how i feel but one.
an album actually not so much a word.
blonde.
ill feel like summer and new opportunities and lost loves and achingly sweet heartbreaks.
ill be scarily tranquil. a feeling that is greatly unbeknownst to me.
still ill have no words to describe how i feel but my favorite color.
ill feel like the color of sunsets and fire.
ill be a warm yet dusty orange.
so light and airy youd almost think i was a simple pink.
and this is what happiness will feel like