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The Eternal Flow
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She carried entire worlds behind her closed eyes. Her breath was made of clouds, her silence of stone cliffs, and from her lips poured a river that seemed eternal. She was both earth and sky, dreamer and creation — a living landscape born of memory and longing.
The waterfall that spilled from her mouth was not merely water, but every unspoken word, every unshed tear, every prayer whispered to the wind. She was a paradox — fragile as mist, yet powerful enough to carve valleys with her silence. And though her face remained calm, the world she held inside flowed endlessly, reshaping everything it touched.
The waterfall that spilled from her mouth was not merely water, but every unspoken word, every unshed tear, every prayer whispered to the wind. She was a paradox — fragile as mist, yet powerful enough to carve valleys with her silence. And though her face remained calm, the world she held inside flowed endlessly, reshaping everything it touched.