Hazme El Amor

The tenderness here is not touching. It is demanding. With temperament, with hands, with fire that does not ask for permission, but simply comes - and stays. Everything sounds like a spell rather than a song: “acaríciame, átame, hazme el amor” - and this is not about romance, it is about complete and unconditional immersion. As if emotions are something physical, and if you don't express them with your skin, all you can do is stare at the two moons in your head and be afraid. But this way, it burns. In every chorus, in every “fuego,” in every phrase, as if spoken through a kiss. There's no crying here. Here, they burn.