Art of Ones and Zeros

In the hush of the corner, she folds into herself—not broken, but gathering. The light finds her anyway, tracing her skin like a vow. There’s strength in her stillness, beauty in her breath, even when the world can’t see it.

She is every woman who’s felt too much, loved too deeply, hoped too hard. And still, she’s here—radiant in her softness, powerful in her quiet.