Since 2023, this work has entangled disrupted lands and fragmented communities as lively witnesses, as absent presences through which otherwise suppressed or lost stories survive and re-enter the fabric of reality. For this new adaptation, the artists respond to the original purpose of the Complesso dell’Ospedaletto—which was a shelter for both the poor and the sick for four centuries—and fold in the drawings created by Abou-Rahme’s father in Jerusalem in the 1970s and ’80s, to reflect on past and current forms of dispossession and erasure in Palestine. In and out of a string of rooms, arrangements of words, sounds, images, and lights progressively accumulate and dissipate. Their non-linear, poetic ebb and flow is an invitation for the viewers to make sense of the visual, sonic, physical, and environmental components of the installation through the sensory experiences it offers. From indigenous plants that resist uprooting, to ancient stones that resurface from colonial concrete, to sites where violent events and sparks of freedom occurred, to song lyrics about love and loss or traditional dances performed across the diaspora, the work rekindles the traces of alienated existences and transforms them into an intergenerational means for spiritual and bodily reconnection as much as for historical reconstruction. Sampled from a growing archive of materials that the artists have been co-authoring, compiling and remixing since 2010, these dizzyingly scattered––albeit engulfing––narratives appear, only to then disappear, at times merging with one another by means of sensuous layerings and distortions. Their distinctive textural engagement with the space points towards a form of reciprocity between who is watching and who is watched, who is haunting and who is haunted. This work is part of the wider project May amnesia never kiss us on the mouth (2020–ongoing) which, through the prism of performance, looks at how communities bear witness to and weather experiences of brutality and displacement.