Prompt

A single, selfsustaining dandelion of compressed silence blooms in the center of a vast, still tundra made entirely of solidified breaths from a civilization that communicated through the texture of unspoken promises. The dandelion does not disperse seedsit exhales a slow, spiraling mist of unformed words, each particle shaped like the negative space between two lips that never parted, glowing with the faint, subsonic resonance of a vow that was almost whispered. The tundra is not frozen groundit is a layered expanse of suspended intention, each stratum etched with the emotional residue of a handshake that never happened, its surface shimmering with the afterimage of a future that was almost chosen. The wind does

Ai Model

FT Ai

Share

HTML Code