The Body Remembers

The body remembers what the mind forgets. Wounds pressed into pigment, shadows traced in gold. Every texture is a memory; every scar, a script. Lace and ash, handprint and whisper — all bound into a relic that both mourns and worships. This is no portrait. It is a spell of remembrance, a ritual sealed in flesh and silence, where pain becomes relic and darkness becomes vow.