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Description
There is grief hidden behind every hand raised in farewell, every soft bell of laughter. We wear our loss like a winter coat, bodies bowed under the heavy burden. Some flaunt the mound of fur, while others hide in the folds. This collection is for the perspicacious chameleons--the quiet gatherers of stray glances and uncomfortable silences--for the terrariums you carry within your eyes, absorbing the tears of others with your moss-covered lashes. May your homes never shatter.
There is grief hidden behind every hand raised in farewell, every soft bell of laughter. We wear our loss like a winter coat, bodies bowed under the heavy burden. Some flaunt the mound of fur, while others hide in the folds. This collection is for the perspicacious chameleons--the quiet gatherers of stray glances and uncomfortable silences--for the terrariums you carry within your eyes, absorbing the tears of others with your moss-covered lashes. May your homes never shatter.
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