Las Palabras

Sometimes disappearing is the only way, even for a second, to be noticed again. Like turning off the light so that someone finally understands how bright it was. Everything around you breathes loudly - the stars eavesdrop on your thoughts, the air repeats other people's phrases, and your memory quietly whispers the very words you wanted to forget but only managed to hide.

The music sounds as if it's coming from another room: a little whispered, a little through sleep. In it - fatigue from endless attempts to be understood and tenderness for those moments when it finally worked. To disappear in order to remain - strange, but very human magic.