Prologue

The air hums in chromatic calm.
Pink listens; blue hesitates.
Speech turns translucent —
and time politely looks away.

Body I

Law one: Dialogue is a form of weather.
Law two: Words evaporate faster in love.
Law three: Blue and pink never argue, they just blend.

He gestures — meaning flickers.
She tilts her head — silence completes the sentence.
Every outline trembles with maybe,
every pause becomes architecture.
They are two thoughts trying to rhyme.

Body II

The pink background sighs:
“Be gentle — language is fragile tonight.”
Blue nods,
then disappears into tone.

DADA Break

talk–walk–blur–bloom
oink? noink. thinkpink.

Closing

The colors rest mid-sentence.
Echo lingers like a held breath.
Tomorrow — perhaps the words will return,
already forgiven.