Hazme El Amor

The tenderness here is not touching. It is demanding. With temperament, with hands, with fire that does not ask permission, but simply comes and stays. It all sounds like a spell rather than a song: ‘acaríciame, átame, hazme el amor’ - and it's not about romance, it's about complete and unconditional immersion.

As if emotions are something physical, and if you don't express yourself with your skin, all that's left is to look at the two moons in your head and be afraid. And so - it burns. In every chorus, in every ‘fuego’, in every phrase, as if spoken through a kiss.

No one cries here. Here, they burn.