In essence…

ūüĆĻWe were Gran V√≠a by the hand, blurred; flashes, lights and traffic lights. In red.
We were the last glass of wine and the last platform. Tights and races, insensitive to cold. For the early morning train.
Music and adrenaline. The world that was new, and the eternal sunrises. We were Madrid and its night, Madrid and its music.
Trains, subways, night clubs¬† and roses, avenues and taxis. Rooftops at night, sunsets on fire. Lipstick and skirts, those mythical times. We were but we have forgotten; who we really are…In essence.

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