# VOICE OF THE HEART The heart speaks in a language the mind cannot decode— a whisper beneath the sternum, a tremor in the blood. It knows what the eyes refuse to see, what reason buries under logic's weight. It hears the unspoken name before the lips can form it. In the dark, when sleep abandons us, the heart confesses what the day conceals: its hunger, its small rebellions, its stubborn, foolish faithfulness. It breaks like glass in silence, each fracture a song no one else can hear. It mends itself with time and forgetting, though the scars remain, luminous. The heart asks questions the mind has learned not to ask. It insists on tenderness in a world that deals in stone. Listen— not with your ears, but with that deeper listening, the one that comes when thought grows still. The heart is speaking now, has always been speaking, in the only voice that tells the truth.

I can hear the familiar melody of life.
The mere movement of the chest, yet an unforgettable caress.
The voice of the heart without which one cannot live.
That miraculous beat that gives me the strength to go proudly every new day.
The soothing beat that brings me to you every day.
That unique beat for which it's worth living and fighting for.
The one in which I feel the glowing body on my own, the relentless heat, the proximity of the other.
That unique feeling no one else can give me!

The mere movement of the chest, yet an unforgettable caress...
It seems to be an obsession, waiting every day for that liberating moment to recharge your body and soul and move on with your sense of why to live and with whom to dream...

I hear the familiar tune of life.
The mere movement of the chest, yet an unforgettable caress.
That voice of the heart that can't be lived without.
Whom you don't want to live without!