To the Bone

A little wine, a slightly flickering light, and air in which you can literally hear someone thinking about you too loudly. Words are almost irrelevant here - everything is decided by intonation, breathing, pauses, as if a whole novel is hidden between them. The very one where love does not ask for boundaries, where hands speak more convincingly than any confessions.

There is something dangerously warm about it - like walking barefoot on the asphalt at night after the rain. When the heart pretends to keep its distance, but the body has already made up its mind. The music glides, pulls you along, and there is only one desire left - not to analyse, not to escape, not to run. Just let yourself fall - beautifully, slowly, with feeling.