Prompt

A single, selfattenuating filament of solidified gravity, shaped like a spiraling, nonEuclidean ribbon of inverted mass, pulses at the center of a vast, suspended garden where the soil is not organic, but compressed, unexpressed dreams from a civilization that communicated through the duration of shared silence. The filament does not collapseit unweights, each twist dissolving a layer of desire that never coalesced, reforming into ephemeral, bioluminescent roots shaped like the negative space between two feet that never touched the same patch of earth in the same moment of longing. The garden is not naturalit is a layered expanse of petrified aspiration, each petal etched with the thermal residue of a

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