Orange
"You still haven't explained the color orange to me yet..."
She sat there with a smirk on her face. Her beautiful green eyes looking aimlessly at my shoulder.
"Are you sure you are ready to learn orange? You were not too happy with red," I countered.
"That is because you gave me a second-degree burn on my hand!" she exclaimed!
"Hardly. It wasn't even a first-degree burn. Anyway, ok, time for orange, hold out your hands."
She held out her lithe, delicate hands, almost warily at this point. I gently placed an orange in her hands.
"So tell me," I asked with my professor mock-speech, "what are you holding, my dear?"
She felt the fruit in her hands, seeing it with her fingertips, "It is an orange. Ha! Ha! That doesn't help at all. You promised to explain all of the colors to me. I want to know what orange looks like, the color, not the fruit."
"Well, what color do you think an orange is? Lavender?"
"So for me, I am just to assume the color orange looks like a dimpled sphere?"
"No, here. Let me take it from you now."
I began to peel the orange in front of her. The oil and the juice from the orange, filling the air.
"That is what the color orange smells like," I said.
I broke off a wedge, burst some of the cells so it was dripping sweet, and placed it to her lips.
"That is what the color orange tastes like," I said as I watch her suck on the wedge of orange and then begin to eat it.
I caressed her cheek with the warmth of my hand.
"This is what orange feels like. Where red was hot, orange sits next to red and is warm instead. Inviting."
"So, besides an orange, what other things are painted orange?" She asked in a purr, sinking her cheek into my touch intimately.
"Even though you are a redhead, your hair is more like spun copper. It is closer to orange than it is to red."
"Really? After you scorched my hand the other day, I thought of my red hair as fiery. My mother always refers to me as being more fiery than her," she countered.
"No, your hair is orange. Warm, not hot. Fire can be red, orange, or yellow. It tends to be a blend of those."
"But, fire burns. Burns is Red, not orange. You said it yourself, orange is warm."
"Yes, the temperatures are emotionally relative. Technically, blue flame is hotter than red."
"But, you said blue is cold!"
"Blue can describe cold. Obviously, it can describe very hot stars as well."
"Confusing..."
"Yes, but do you even think you have a better idea what colors are? I have done my best to find creative ways to paint them for you without sight."
"Yes, I do. I appreciate it all. I was just teasing you."
Then she found my face with her hands, brought hers to mine and kissed my lips.
"And what color was that?" she asked.
"It was soft, sweet, gentle and tasted surprisingly like an orange. A light orange," I teased. She smacked me on the head, then kissed me harder, with more passion.
"And this one?" she asked, a bit more breathlessly.
"That one, as red as can be. I felt all of your heat and passion, so definitely red."
"Good, that is what I was hoping for. Maybe I am starting to see these colors after all."
She kissed me again, even deeper this time. We both bled to red as we succumbed to the dance of our lips, and tongues, and love.
Experience Orange
Darkness envelopes your vision
Perhaps I’ll never understand you’re position
And the only way I can gift you
What you ought to have been given,
What should have been rightfully yours,
What I, and others like me take granted for
Perhaps the only way I can gift you
Sight
Is through
Sound
Touch
Taste
Why you’ve been denied, precious sight
You and I will never know
I can stand here, apologizing like the rest
While your blood boils at my chirpy zest
For something over which we have no control
Or, I can tell you what your timid heart has longed to know
I can try to make your life
Colorful, one color at a time
Today, I speak of the color of sacrifice
Give me your hands, chilled to the bone
Do not move, believe in me
Do you feel, this strange comfort
Of warmness healing your frozen fingers?
Be careful not to touch the flame
For, burning, scorching, searing heat
Will wring defeat
Upon your gentle, misgiving touch
These feelings of extremes
Are one and the same
This my friend, is orange
Come with me, to the great outdoors
Do you hear the chirping birds?
Listen to the rustling of leaves
Swaying with the gentle breeze
Bask in the glory of the wondrous evening
The Sun no longer high up, far above
Right now, the Sun is sinking down
Slowly, but oh so surely
Today has reached it’s near demise
The sounds you hear, is Nature’s voice
Bidding adieu to the blazing ball of fire
Which, at this moment, is in level with you
The skies mark their respect, to the glorious Sun
Their shade no longer different, but one
This right here, my dear, is orange
Vibrant orange, in all it’s incredible beauty
Is all around you,
It’s in the birds you hear, the wind you feel
This is the power of orange’s daily ordeal
Wait a moment, I’ll get you something special
Now come inside, here’s your surprise
I plucked it from the tree
You heard swaying in the wind
Put it in your mouth, before it drips
It’s essence all over your fingertips
Do you taste the sourness?
Do you taste the sweetness?
Perhaps you already know that this is an orange
But do remember that
The union of sweet and sour
Is the truth about this vibrant color
Perfectly captured, in a spherical fruit
It’s time to rest, do get some sleep
Who knows? Maybe you’ll get to see
Orange in all it’s sanctity
In your adventurous dreams
Good night
Tomorrow, I’ll make you see
Another color with me
the blue
They say it is cool; because they say color has a temperature.
But what do I know? I am not a painter. I am not moved by the palette or the brush. The picture, I am stirred by that; though I could not say
if the stroke was made hot or cold where color is concerned.
The way the colors mix when they pair, when they sit side by side
or crossing lines, blushing together-
the anguished red against the screaming yellow
the pitying brown like rotting leaves in clear streams
that's the sound, there, water against rock.
I can tell you about the blue with words and maybe texture,
the feel of it, like that water against hot skin,
against cool skin, though
warm, greeting like a friend,
like to like
blue like the sky, the air, the wind
reaching into and beyond.
It is hopeful somehow. You know that feeling.
Remember?
Purple
Admirabe red rose gardens
And the ocean's amiable blue
An alliance of these marvels
To create a purple wonder too.
Think of the delight, how pleasing
This view can be
Above, an Orion constellation
Below, purple orchides blooming in their tree.
And think of the cherry trees,
Past autumn, a nature renew
Think of days of change,
Feel the purple, too.
red
when her fingers touch your skin.
when the sun warms your lips.
when the corner of your lips rise for no reason.
when you kiss her, she tastes red.
when you hug your brother, it feels red.
when your favorite song plays, it sounds red.
when the waves caress your toes, it's red.
red is intensity.
red is passion.
red is for love, for anger.
red is for life.