I grew up in Brooklyn, the daughter of a mother who taught me that beauty isn’t something to be seen—it’s something to be felt. In this essay, I weave my mixed heritage—African and Irish—into a visual poem where lingerie becomes sculpture, not object. Through monochrome frames and silent movement, I reclaim the body as sacred space. This is not eroticism. It’s an act of resistance.

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Beauty Gallery

LunaVelvetDream

Personal introduction