When a voice disappears, new worlds unravel. Rooted in the artist’s personal process of mourning her grandmother’s loss of speech due to aphasia, this work traces the borderlines of a voice —not its content, but its texture, its imprint, its echo. Through a series of embroidered panels and "soft" handmade speakers, voice is not represented but translated: each thread a fragment, each fabric surface a receptive membrane that carries sonic memory into tactile form. These textiles map an unstable cartography of voice and absence — a hypertext(ile) where the memory of a voice is material, resonance, and trace. They become sites of overflow —desbordar— where voice spills beyond audibility and into the felt. What new forms of communication, care, and connection emerge when voice becomes something we carry —not through sound, but through gesture, memory, and touch?