This sculptural object stages an oversized set of dentures as an uncanny reliquary, its turquoise patina lending the fleshless smile the authority of a weathered monument rather than a private prosthesis. The tight frontal composition reads like a suitcase left ajar, where embossed fragments—tokens, tools, and tiny narratives—cling to the gums as if memory itself has become tactile luggage. Light slides across the bulbous teeth and pitted surfaces, oscillating between seduction and discomfort, turning the mouth into an archive of consumption, identity, and the quiet violence of maintenance. What should restore speech becomes a mute container, proposing that the self is assembled, carried, and ultimately displayed as artifact.