Pide un deseo por mí

The breeze reaches the shore, as if someone has quietly rearranged the scene - and suddenly you don't want to die young, but to stretch the night into eternity. There is no pathos here, only a simple, almost childish desire to rise higher and stay longer: to arrive later, leave together, or not let anyone in at all. Inside, there is a tenderness that sometimes makes you want to steal it and immediately send it to hell, so that you can watch it all again in slow motion - like a film where every scene is perfectly constructed, even if the ending has to be split in half.

Wishes are conveyed halfway, like secrets that cannot be fully revealed - it is better to keep them in a suitcase and promise not to be a heavy burden. Friends and imposters flit in the background, the moon is in the centre, and relationships look like paintings: fresh, a little daring, almost like Goya's frescoes in motion. It's a thrill with a twist - when love is close, but you still want to mark boundaries and leave room to breathe.