Besito en la Frente

A sunny morning that smells of skin and rhythm. Where the night has already surrendered, but the body still remembers the dance and the promise of ‘forever.’ The music wraps itself in tropical ornamentation - drums, heat, breath, touch. It's not about haste, but about that very ‘slow’ when every second is like a taut string vibrating to the point of trembling.

Words about eternity sound not like loud oaths, but like simple confidence: here we are, here is the dance, here is the moment, and nothing else is needed. Even if tomorrow takes it away, the taste will remain - rich and spicy, like the morning after a carnival, when the world around you seems like a gift and your heart still beats to the rhythm of ‘we are eternal.’