Más Cerquita

The pulse of the city after midnight is steady, slightly tired, with a hint of burnt neon and cold coffee. People are still searching for something - each other, meaning, the light switch. The warmth here comes not from the sun, but from that very “heat” that spreads through your veins when music becomes skin. The ghosts of past feelings wander through apartments, settle on windowsills, don't interfere, just remind you: everything that was hasn't disappeared - it has dissolved into rhythm. And even though the streets are full of shadows, you still want to keep going, without figuring out where this light comes from - from outside or from within.