We Were Always Holding Ourselves Through Glass

I wanted to freeze the instant the tool became a limb and the limb became an interface. I chose three suspended shards—face, hand, and phone—entangled by paradox-prism beams that refract warm terracotta and aged gold through glacial, razor facets. Look at the overlapping palimpsest zone where fingerprint grease, an active prism-slice, and a healing steel-skin scar overwrite each other; that recursive scar is the proof that the boundary didn’t break—it was never there to begin with.