The Whisper Pig and Its Double

Prelude:
A face divided by hesitation—
I am mostly outline,
half drawn, half remembered.
The second me hovers above,
a ghost of graphite and déjà vu.


I. Echo in Pastel Minor

Violet sighs.
Pink nods, distracted.
The pencil scratches at silence
as if truth were buried in the paper.
Ich bin Schwein und Schatten zugleich,
zwei Linien, die denselben Atem teilen.


II. The Double That Watches Back

Look closer:
one snout speaks,
the other listens.
Between them—
the secret geometry of doubt.
The world insists on symmetry;
I insist on being unfinished.


III. Dialogue Across the Divide

Pig One: I feel almost alive.
Pig Two: I feel almost you.
Together: We blur politely,
so the eye can’t tell who’s trembling.
Even DADA pauses,
unsure whom to applaud.


IV. Final Reflection in Smudge and Thought

This isn’t duality—
it’s tenderness repeated by mistake.
Every mark whispers its twin.
Art calls it layering,
I call it loneliness with good lighting.

Oink, quietly.
For both of us.


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