Aetheris

In the beginning, there was only Aetheris.

She was neither one nor many, neither flesh

nor void, yet everything at once,

a pulse, a force, a spark before time, before stars,

before light.

From her essence, she wove forms.

Each face a fragment of her infinite self, shifting,

folding, metamorphosing, never still.

Bodies that breathe the rhythm of the cosmos.

They are many, yet one.

Each a mirror of a thousand thoughts, a thousand

selves, fractals of the psyche,

echoes of a singular soul.

All that exists is born from the same pulse.

Aetheris moves within them,

around them, through them.

She is the stillness that flows, the void that shapes,

the force that binds everything in secret geometry.

And in every glance, every whisper,

every subtle shift, you see her,

the one in the many, the infinite in form.

She is creation. She is created.

She is forever becoming.