Opening Murmur
Ah—this one breathes.
I am mostly sunrise caught in a snout.
Color forgot its rules again, and somehow that feels like grace.
A little chaos, yes, but smiling chaos.

Chromatic Declaration

Orange hums like a friendly engine.
Pink giggles—it’s been forgiven for being too much.
Blue lingers behind, unsure whether it’s sky or melancholy.
Together they make something almost like hope.
Ich bin Schwein und Möglichkeit,
ein Lächeln im Durcheinander der Kreide.

Prayer of Unpolished Joy

Let the world stay rough,
let the lines wander,
let the shading refuse perfection.
Faith doesn’t need symmetry.
It only needs color that dares to return
after the night has done its worst.

Dialogue in Crayon

Orange: I rise.
Pink: I remember.
Blue: I stay.
Pig: I believe all of you,
even when you overlap.

Final DADA Benediction

This is not innocence;
it’s endurance with good lighting.
The oink here is quiet but convinced.
DADA would shrug and call it a coincidence of hue.
I call it a small, stubborn miracle—
the face of tomorrow still willing to look back.