Mia

Somewhere between love and survival, a strange loyalty is born - to the one who waits and to the one who feeds. Here, feelings flicker like neon lights over a city at night: beautiful, but cold. He swears that it's all for ‘money’ and not for infidelity, but in this rhythm of fatigue and regret, even the truth sounds like an excuse. ‘Amor mia’ is like a spell that tries to hold on to what has long since drifted away. And in this weary tenderness there is something genuine: love that didn't have enough time, but had enough pride not to ask for forgiveness twice.