paint me orange

the sound of sprinklers drift up to the second floor
it invigorates me, like the orange of my hallucination
i am free, where my seven league boots carry me to circe, where
i am lured into her circle of cavia porcellus
the music of the roof find me, and drown my lust for the ground
bare feet against shingles, i climb, slipping through moss and tar
until there is nothing but the sky and my silhouette
against the dark of a sunset.
paint me orange. i shake and quiver.