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She stands still while everything around her moves. Butterflies drift through waves of green, some settling on the folds of her gown, others caught mid-flight. Her eyes are closed, her posture calm. Not stillness from stopping, but stillness from becoming.
The dress spills out like petals opening. Green and black play off each other, drawing the eye down to a single bare leg breaking through the fabric. Bloom, but on her own terms.