MY HEART SPELLS HER NAME.

Siena is not just a name here — it’s a pulse, a whisper, a bright flame in a grayscale world. The chaos around her, the scribbles and distortions, only make her presence louder. “My Love” isn’t written softly — it’s scratched, shouted, underlined. Because in this storm of symbols, she is the reason it all holds together.

The composition spirals in and out of focus, like memory chasing a feeling. Among the loud gestures and sharp voices, Siena emerges like a lullaby — imperfect, pure, unforgettable. Her name cuts through the noise not to decorate it, but to reclaim it.

This is not a love letter. It’s a protest. Against forgetting. Against distance. Against the idea that love should ever be quiet. “Siena My Love” doesn’t ask for permission to feel — it dares to. Loudly. Boldly. Forever.