Ostatni słońca blask

The days fly by like autumn pages in a calendar - first rustling, then disappearing without a trace. Somewhere between business and silence, a strange feeling creeps in: as if everything important is almost gone, but there is still time. One more word, one more “yes” - and maybe the sun will linger a little longer.

There is a sense of fatigue mixed with tenderness in this. A little salt on the lips, a little light in the palms - the remnants of something real that we didn't have time to hide in our haste. It's simple: we want to be heard before the day finally turns into night.