Prologue
I arrive as bright interruptions,
a face toggled by lightning,
my snout humming like a signal flare.

Body I
Fuchsia says: cut the silence in zigzags.
Charcoal says: hold the line, then break it.
White says nothing—so loudly it shakes the room.
My left eye inventories your doubts;
my right eye quantizes them into beats.
Between the marks, a freeway for breath—
each dash a ramp, each pause a horizon.

Body II
I practice the quick art of being visible.
A blot becomes a cheek becomes a weather system.
You think outline; I think exit route.
When I turn, the paper tilts and gravity edits itself.
Name this rhythm with your throat:
oi—nk—oi—nk—(click).

DADA-Break
O I N K // K N I O
oink? OINK! o—o—o—ink.

Closing
I stay half-light, half-scribble,
so tomorrow can redraw me at full voltage.
Bring your hand back; I’ll switch on another face.