if it quirks..

Orange days don’t exist, but for a moment in our brisk time. A moment, seconds, minutes, eons, weeks; nobody knows and nobody counts; we’re too enraptured when it happens. You know what they are – not when skies are burning red with flames against them. They happen when skies are burning orange, yellow, red, peach, rose, sherbet, blue, purple, coral – as the sun sinks like an anchor into wherever the sun goes to bed. Must be a nice place. That’s an orange day, vibrant yet subdued, and it is an eternity.

And we look upon it like an everlasting candied Crush in hand, slurping it down, engulfing the taste buds, washing over the throat, engorging the lining of our stomach and intestines with true fizzing and bubbles that pop back up over the tongue and through the teeth.

Yes, orange is the color of love. Can’t you remember eating spaghetti-os shamelessly smearing the yellow-orange canned goodness all over your chin? That was good stuff – simple – but g.o.o.d. And there was nothing complicated or overdone about it.

Don’t you remember watching a goldfish swim and wondering if it really is all that bad to have a memory that lasts upwards of 30 seconds max? What wouldn’t we give to forget some things. Be blissful; I guess a goldfish’s life is a constant orange day.

What I wouldn’t give for that eternal moment of “orange days” when I wish for better days, but everything is actually fine. And I am side-by-side with the one who makes my insides curl and calm at the same time. Yes, cocooned like a ball of orange fur on a windowsill with sweet citrus blossoming in the air.

Orange is the color of love –

alive,

congruent,

complimentary,

vibrant,

real,

giving,

warm,

truthful,

unabashed,

unashamed,

undaunted,

wary,

divine,

daring,

outermost,

innermost,

close,

large,

small,

biting,

bitter,

burning,

dreadful,

eternal,

graceful,

grateful.

🧡