DISIMULA

The night once again plays the role of accomplice: the lights are dimmed, the air is thick with spicy smoke, and the glances are too direct to pretend that nothing is happening. He is there, she is there, and there is that tension that can be covered up with the word ‘disimula,’ but in the end, it will still be betrayed by their breathing and the trembling of their hands.

The rhythm rocks as if the heart is synchronised with the bass, and it is no longer clear whether it is the music calling them closer or the adrenaline itself composing the beat. There is no talk of tomorrow, of ‘what if they find out’ or ‘what next’. The whole philosophy fits into one simple rule: now is right.

And even though promises dissolve faster than smoke, that feeling remains: as if the outside world has shut down and the two have built their own - loud, bold, with a slight hint of prohibition that only adds to the flavour.