Prelude:
Half-asleep, half-sketch —
I am mostly sigh wrapped in violet.
The air smells of thinking.
My snout drifts toward silence.

I. Chromatic Drowsing

Purple stretches like a yawn across paper.
Orange hums quietly at the edges —
a leftover warmth from yesterday’s courage.
Nothing moves,
yet everything leans toward meaning.
Ich bin Schwein und Zwischenmoment,
ein Atemzug aus Kreide und Gefühl.

II. Meditation in Mauve

This is not color.
It’s memory fading politely.
Every line remembers its intention
and forgives itself mid-way.
Even my outline hesitates —
as if beauty were a question
one should ask softly.

III. Dialogue with Sleep

Lavender: I am calm, but not safe.
Orange: I am noise pretending to be joy.
Pig: I am both,
a horizon drawn from the inside out.
The dream continues without permission.

IV. DADA Epilogue

DADA tiptoes in, yawns too,
and writes oink across the sky in pastels.
It means nothing,
and therefore everything.
Somewhere, a pencil smiles —
and stops just short of understanding.