Vântul

The heat sticks to the skin like a promise you don't want to escape. The air trembles, the sun melts lazily, and time dissolves in the breath of two. Everything around seems to disappear, leaving only the sound of breathing and the warmth of palms - a slow dance where it doesn't matter who leads. This is not about the passion on the cover, but about how silence becomes louder than any words. When the body is a map that can be followed endlessly, and every wound is a reason to be reborn. And it seems that the world has become softer, because somewhere inside it there is this shadow, where it is 40 degrees and peaceful.