To the Bone

A little wine, a slightly flickering light, and air in which you can literally hear someone thinking about you too loudly. Words are almost irrelevant here - everything is decided by intonation, breathing, and pauses, as if a whole novel were hidden between them. The one where love doesn't fit into a box, where hands speak more convincingly than any confession.

There is something dangerously warm about it - like walking barefoot on the asphalt at night after the rain. When the heart pretends to still be keeping its distance, but the body has long since made up its mind. The music glides, pulls you along, and there is only one desire left - not to analyze, not to escape, not to run. Just let yourself fall - beautifully, slowly, with feeling.