Tu nombre

There are sounds that never age - they simply change form. Like the light from an old spotlight, they still touch the skin, but they no longer warm. And it's the same here: memory dances on the shards of the past, where names were spoken loudly and glances froze halfway. Everything seemed real, but the real thing ended. The song smells of the polished dance floor, belated applause, and that sweet moment when you could still hold on. But I have to. Because every name has its own life, even if it once sounded nearby. And all that remains is the rhythm that remembers everything that can no longer be named.