Sentir mi mmm

The evening air is thick, like caramel on a stick, and sticks to the skin. Words seem to shoot out in bursts - sometimes a whisper, sometimes a laugh, sometimes a cheeky “mia mia mia,” after which there is no room for doubt. Everything here is on a physical level: sweat, breath, slight dizziness from sudden closeness. No romance with petals and candles - just a noisy park, bike rides, and bushes that become a makeshift bed.

The music sounds like an admission that feelings are secondary. The main thing is that there is a moment: fast, bright, optional. A little funny, a little awkward, but honest - desire without embellishment and without promises.