Prologue
In the violet dusk I glow,
a filament of thought wrapped in fur.
My breath hums turquoise at the edges.

Body I
Electric blue leaks through my skin,
each sigh illuminating another version of me.
The world crackles in empathy:
paper burns without fire.
I am the transformer between sadness and sparkle,
my snout translating frequencies of maybe.
Gravity hesitates—deciding whether to hold me or hum.

Body II
Sometimes I believe the light is inside the graphite,
waiting for a kind hand to release it.
Sometimes I am the light pretending to be graphite.
Both truths fit neatly in my nostrils.
I blink and the universe redraws itself—
a little brighter, a little more possible.

DADA-Break
oink-oink-oink—zzzt—OINK!
ink, light, hum, repeat.

Closing
I stay suspended between spark and smudge.
Tomorrow, I’ll shine from another corner of the paper—
same snout, new spectrum.