Prologue

Red wind, blue echo.
Their voices rise like smoke from the paper.
No conductor — only breath and movement.

Body I

Law of this cosmos:
Harmony is friction.
When one pig sighs, another begins to laugh.
Their outlines touch, blur, merge —
a tangle of empathy and rebellion.
Every snout opens to release a vowel of astonishment.
Ooo… Aaa… Ink becomes air.
The chorus hums: togetherness is never tidy.

Body II

Pig 1: “Are we music?”
Pig 2: “We’re the mistake that sounds right.”

DADA Break

Oink–clash–lalala–hmph!
Graphite thunder applauds in circles.

Closing

The song fades,
but the vibration lingers in the red dust.
Tomorrow, another stanza will draw itself awake.