Model

Yan​​

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Photo

Kaylee

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Lighting

Terrence

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Film

Ilford Pan 400

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There is no sound in sand,
and no warmth in silence.
The starting point forgets us —
yet we never left.

“Not all roots grow in soil.
Some begin in sand,
where silence is heavier than noise.”
The desert is endless,
but the wind makes no sound.

It offers the illusion of freedom —
wide, unbounded, untouched.
But those who remain
know silence can be heavier than any sound.
Oppression does not come from emptiness alone,
but from the loss of direction,
the fracture of time.

This is survival at the edge.
When all things erode to dust,
we walk with the sand,
live beside the stillness.

Skin leans into instinct.
Thoughts nestle against the grains.
We learn to stay still,
to wait —
without expecting the wait to end.

There is no plot here, only presence;
no beginning, only endurance.

And if nothing is ever left behind,
then we are what remains of the light —
flickering in silence,
persisting through ash.