Revealing the wound, unveiling what is imprinted on the body to break the silence. In this way, fabric ceases to be merely a material sign-holder and becomes a mirror of the mind's multifocal projections, the subconscious, and memories. 

Once the cut is made, the skin is visibly exposed, violated, and worn to the point where there is nothing left to hide or protect: the gag has fallen, and we are silent no more. 

Memory becomes a hodgepodge of torn flesh, hanging from the final remnants of tissue that dangle in the void, supported by its fragility. 

Brenda R. Fernández