Prologue

Fizzing dusk.
Liquid chatter fills the air.
I smell graphite joy and lemon memory.

Body I

New law of this universe:
Every color is a mood that can be poured.
Blue tastes like thought,
red burns like a secret,
yellow bubbles like forgiveness.
We sip from the edges of time,
and the foam becomes philosophy.
Pig lifts the glass, sees galaxies spin.

Body II

Pig 1: “Do you think the stars drink too?”
Pig 2: “Only when we toast them.”

DADA Break

Oink–glug–ha!
Carbonated eternity hiccups.

Closing

The night exhales.
Our laughter becomes constellations.
Tomorrow we’ll remember nothing—
except the taste of color.