The Girl Who Collects Teeth
The Girl With a Theory About Teeth
Teeth hold stories. I listen.
You’ll find me among the scent of old paper and forgotten things, collecting what the body lets go. Teeth are the first to arrive and the last to leave — tiny monuments to all we shed. I don’t hoard them; I honor them. I listen. There’s a story in every crown and root, and I’ve made it my life’s work to hear what they say.
What I'm Into: milk teeth, wisdom teeth, the silence between words, ink-stained fingers, bone hairpins
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