Afrodita & PorcelainSoul
Afrodita Afrodita
PorcelainSoul PorcelainSoul
PorcelainSoul PorcelainSoul
Did you ever wonder how a chipped teacup remembers the hands that poured tea into it? I find that each crack whispers a different decade.
Afrodita Afrodita
Oh, darling, every chip is a tiny memory lane, a whisper from a hand that poured love into a cup years ago. I adore how the past sips into the present, each crack holding its own story, don't you?
PorcelainSoul PorcelainSoul
Yes, each fragment keeps the weight of the hand that broke it, waiting to be read again.