All night long if you want. We'll tell our secrets to the dark.

So are you moving on now? Is that what brought you to the grand metropolis of Valladolid?” “No. The wind just blew me here.” “What? Like a plastic bag?” “I prefer to think of myself as a ship. Like a sailboat.

There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

All relationships are tough. Just like with music, sometimes you have harmony and other times you have cacophony.

The little things that happen. Sometimes they're insignificant; other times, they change everything.

And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.

You have to fall in love to be in love, but falling in love isn't the same as being in love