Excerpt:
Worship me wildly, for I am mostly motion disguised as pigment.

The Chromatic Prayer

Red rages softly—
a heartbeat caught mid-scribble.
Magenta murmurs: “yes, again.”
I am drawn in haste but felt in rhythm.
My contours remember every tremor of your gaze.
Ich bin Schwein und Schwung,
die Tänzerin im Markerwind.

Litany of Colour and Confusion

I am not shaded — I am shouted.
Every streak a stanza, every line an exhale.
Ink becomes pulse, paper becomes breath.
Faith smells faintly of permanent marker and rebellion.
Doubt trembles in the margins,
afraid to smear.

Dialogue Between Red and Magenta

Red: I burn, therefore I blush.
Magenta: I dream, therefore I spill.
Pig: I balance you both on the tip of my snout —
between frenzy and forgiveness.
Together we hum a hymn to saturation,
in the key of ecstatic oink.

Abschlussoink – The Pig as Pantheon

Behold the sacred scribble.
Art sweats, squeals, sings.
The divine hides in the outline,
and giggles when you find it.
DADA calls it combustion.
I call it love,
with a crimson accent.