a me mi piace

The sun spreads across my skin like someone turned summer up to full volume and forgot to turn it off. The air is buzzing with silly phrases, made-up words, and such honest confessions that you want to smile. It's simple, everything works: coffee with wine, September pretending to be August, and the feeling that life can be measured not by days, but by the number of times you say "I like it." It sounds like a walk along the embankment where the sea laps in time with your heart, and the world suddenly becomes ridiculously light. Even basic romance here isn't syrupy, but vitamin D. A song where happiness isn't explained, but lived. With an accent, sunshine, and that same incomprehensible but infectious "me gustas tú."