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Each piece of ornamental metal smells peculiar, but over time, we’ve noticed they grow side by side, and the coldness of the surface, melts into the warmth of the design. There is a safe place, where the metals that are inherited are placed, hidden gems, soft and coarse. But we’ve often laid them out on a cushion and told the stories of their years, the hands they came from and were gifted through.
I might not remember everything you’ve taught me, but I can see through your eyes, and we can touch the surface that once lived by your side.
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