BLACK IVY

Black Ivy is stitched from memory, gesture, and grace.

It begins with inheritance , a bouquet passed between hands, the unspoken bond of kin carried forward.

It moves in silence, flowers pressed against the back, the weight of beauty borne like lineage.

From stillness, the body rises.
Poise becomes defiance, stance becomes a statement, each gesture balancing between elegance and survival.

At last, the fabric softens
into a tender armor, a veil of reverie.

Here, grace lingers,
not as costume, but as inheritance made flesh.

Black Ivy blooms again,
woven from silence, resilience, and becoming.