Prologue
A faint hum, half blush, half question.
Gray becomes pink, and pink forgets its reason.
Somewhere between snout and silence, the world begins again.

Body I
New law: emotion stains the air in visible hue.
Sadness blushes, joy sketches itself sideways.
The Pig, trembling with half-erased laughter,
teaches gravity how to wobble.
Every curve is a hesitation,
every eye a small conspiracy of light.
Words dissolve into furrows of color.

Body II
Pig says softly: “I was never fully drawn — only remembered.”
The page nods, its edge curling with tenderness.
Pencil sighs: “Then memory is our mirror.”

Dada Break
Oinkpink—blink—sync!
Graphite hiccups, paper hums a lullaby.

Closing
Time folds once more.
The blush remains —
breathing, porous, infinite.