Suspended in a velvety darkness, a small, bandage-wrapped figure lies across two monumental hands—one verdant and patterned like living earth, the other cool and script-laced like memory—turning care into a cosmology. The crescent moon hovers as a quiet witness, its pale arc sharpening the contrast between vulnerability and protection, as if night itself has been folded into a cradle. Through the tactile layering of ornament and text, the work suggests that healing is both physical and mythic: a body held together by tenderness, and a story held together by time.