Bajo De La Piel

Stories live beneath the skin - they cannot be erased or rewritten. Some remain as eternal scars, while others are reborn with new meanings, as if memory, too, can change its skin. In every word, one senses the weariness of haste, the desire to slow down, to see the sunset not as an endpoint, but as a respite.

The music draws you into the space between light and darkness: where the streetlights seem like stars, but there is still not enough warmth. The question “where is the light?” sounds not desperate, but rather thoughtful, as if the answer is already somewhere nearby - you just need to stop and wait for it to appear.