Prompt

A single, selfsiphoning lens of compressed time, shaped like a rotating, nonreflective prism of liquid shadow, hovers at the center of a vast, inverted desert where the sand is not mineral, but solidified, unspoken vows from a civilization that communicated through the alignment of unbroken gazes. The lens does not refractit unsees, each rotation reversing the entropy of perception, reforming into ephemeral, geometric afterimages shaped like the negative space between two eyes that never held the same moment of recognition. The desert is not earthit is a layered expanse of petrified intention, each dune etched with the kinetic residue of a promise that was almost whispered into the wind, its surface shimmer

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