Through a fabric-dyeing technique known as “ferrous printing,” Ivy draws a poetic analogy with processes of erasure and the unraveling of histories and textiles, wherein corrosive states permeate her body, her dance, and her embroidery practice. Rust is understood as an ephemeral language that persists until the book itself—over time—disintegrates. The creation of a “body-book”—an object made of tulle and dyed, embroidered fabric—gives rise to a delicate dance of shifting movement and flow, akin to the swaying of a train. The object slowly envelops the artist’s body, inviting her to wander. The performance generates a state of suspension—a derailment driven by affect, a continuous vortex that lays bare raw life, vulnerabilities, exhaustion, and the *tópos* of the skin. There is no stopping.