Poetica

It's as if the evening decided to last a little longer than it should. The air is already tired, but warm, and someone is still holding my hand, not letting go, as if that's the way not to get lost in the darkness. The waves whisper that you can let go of control and just drift, without asking where. And it's true, fatigue becomes less harsh when you're with someone for whom "it's not over yet." The music sounds like a reminder: even when it seems the light has gone out, you can learn to see in the semi-darkness. Where silence speaks louder than words, and a simple "hug" is almost a prayer.