DESPEDIRME

Everything is already packed: keys in hand, coat on shoulder, taxi in three minutes. But then there's that look. That gesture. That movement, which should easily be outlawed - it throws you off course so much. And again, nothing is clear. Not the goodbyes, not the plans, not this ‘between us.’

Love here is like bad internet: it seems to be disconnected, but it still catches on. An attempt to leave turns into another round of tango - with drama, flirting, and the eternal ‘just a little more.’ And while the whole world advises to ‘let go,’ here everything is decided simply: no me digas que no. Because words are unnecessary when there is so much fire between the lines.