green thinks aloud—
snout answers in circles,
two moons, no permission.

the ear is a sail of maybe,
the air a slow trombone.

mud dreams in lowercase,
grammar squeals in rhythm.

white waits for a headline,
none arrives,
only oink,
only once.

a hoof writes manifesto in invisible ink.

the frame hums—
paper breathes chlorophyll.

every silence wears a hat.

I declare the day edible,
and the pig,
already painting the wind.