06.2024
Red Pyramid, Egypt



They rose and fell.
Neither flesh nor shadow, they hovered over the rose-tinted sands of Dahshur, silent forms of complexity sculpted by the desire to create life not yet born.
Below them – the Red Pyramid, the weight of centuries. Once clad in radiant light, now stripped to its reddish core. Built by Sneferu, reaching toward eternity, lucified by starlight already dead.
Within, corridors sank downward into the heart of life’s mystery. Three chambers arched upward, their walls shadowed by soot. Here, time and space folds and thickens, descending from stars.
Bioisms float, neural, breathing above static stone, defying collapse.
They are weightless, unborn centuries, pulsating constellations, light trapped in fragile synthetics. They are idea, life magnified before it arrives.
What will yet evolve?
They rise, resisting the fall, pulled by gravity not of this earth, shimmering like equations not yet solved. They hover, translucent, above the chambers, thought to defy entropy. Time stretches, thin as desert air.
Space bends and expands.
Spacetime, a single being.