Candle wax dripping down the stem. Slow and sensual journey. Eres mi sueño. Eres mi amor. Whispered words in another language, but only in my head. Haunting echoes of another place. I forget that the forums here are the same, even if the snow chills my veins. Get off the Metro car, walk up the steps, and out into the summer sun. Madrid, eres mío. Me encanta, Madrid.
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