Against a backdrop of vivid cerulean sky hung a semi-abstract artwork that defied immediate decoding. Juanita tilted her head, her eyes tracing its floating shapes. "I have no idea what this is saying, or whether this is even a poem." she murmured, her voice trailing off as if mesmerized by the blue expanse. "What do you think it is trying to say?"

The artwork suggested a tangle of asemic marks, suggesting language without ever committing to it. Ella glanced over, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. "All I see is gibberish. Isn't poetry, by definition, somewhat obscure?"

Shu tilted his head, as if a different angle might offer a gateway to meaning. His eyes moved slowly across it floating forms, enjoying the colors without worrying whether they held meaning. Stepping closer to the frame, Shu added, "Poetry has a logic all its own. Often, it seems to defy ordinary logic."

Jack leaned in over Shu's shoulder, peering intently at the composition before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "Well," he mused, turning his gaze back to the framed abstract sky, "perhaps nonsense is the essence of poetry."

No one answered him. The four of them stood in the gallery a while longer, saying nothing, and the silence felt less like an absence of words than like the four of them had, for a moment, understood the painting perfectly. Then, one by one, they walked on, leaving the cerulean cyphers as unresolved as they'd found them.