YOGURCITO

It smells of forbidden pleasure and a bed where not a shadow of innocence remains. Everything is imbued with heat, audacity, and that particular kind of confidence that only comes to those who know exactly what they want - and how to get it. The music flows like sweat on the skin: sticky, sweet, impossible to tear yourself away from. Words are not confessions, but a game on the edge between passion and defiance. Everything is frankly ridiculous, but it didn't work because you can feel the hunter's excitement behind every movement, not chance. This rhythm isn't listened to half-heartedly - it's experienced with the body, down to the trembling in the fingers and the short breaths between verses.