I love their song - December train

You will never catch me with clothes

If you knock at my house you can find me like this

Wild, fierce, and barely tamed this tiger bikini doesn’t play, There's a specific kind of quiet ache that comes with knowing you're no longer the person someone still describes you as. It's not a rejection of who you were, but a subtle, almost physical gap between a past image held dear by another, and the complex, shifting landscape you currently inhabit. And sometimes, you just wish there was a gentle way to bridge that distance, or perhaps, simply acknowledge it in the shared space.