The Star-Covered Creature That Ate the Bad Heart

The beast curls up in a half-ball, as if trying to hold

something inside itself, preventing it from scattering. Its

nostrils are brightly black, alive, yet at the same time voluminous and dark, as if wet from the rain, and a tense black

line stretches from them into the body. The yellow wings of the nose rise to

the forehead, where another heart is frozen - open, exposed

outward, unlike the one hidden deeper. Inside,

in the dark space, lies another heart - inverted,

withered, with sharp fragments and white flashes that look more

like cracks than light. A black stream connects these two

states, as if the memory of what was swallowed does not disappear, but continues

to move inside. The stars on the beast's body do not adorn

it - they only emphasize how deeply within

it this quiet process of transformation unfolds.