Discovery

Along the edges, with arms outstretched,
we're concentrating.
Traversing the concentric walkways of
perfectly peeled rinds,
we're descending into the depths
of his fruity fragrance.
It intoxicates; it controls.
Like blind men on a rope,
we follow him who leads.
And he leads us to the heart
of these tangerine dreams.

We discover this new world,
through orange, tinted glasses.
Everything has layers, and
texture and truth. We reach out
to touch. To feel. To know.
The exploration is punctuated
by moments of cognisance.
Moments when the solid haze we're in
is pierced by a stray word.
But these moments pass, and
the tangerine dream regains control.

We're awoken from this reverie by
the acerbic edge of reality.
The citric acid cuts through it all.
Clean strokes, no mistakes.
We were at the nadir, swimming
in sweetness spiced with tangy passion,
but now, we return. We take careless steps
in the hopes of falling off the edge,
to be immersed in the tangerine dreams
once more.

This one definitely needs a rewrite, but it works as is for the time being. A momentary return to the colour phase...