Overdrop

It feels like the air is getting thicker, like before a thunderstorm - only instead of lightning, there are sighs, rhythm, and the humid glow of neon. Everything happens on the edge of words: the skin perceives music faster than the brain. It's all too close, too delicious, too alive to resist. Every bit is like melted honey - viscous, sticky, but it's not scary to stay in this sweet captivity until morning. The body understands before the ear: it's not about the dance - it's about giving yourself completely. Here, intuition and a fire in your chest decide everything, and your mind can rest. Let the nite itself figure out where the music ends and the delusion begins.