Voy A Buscarte

A night-time promise – unrestrained and slightly loud: perfume and unspoken words hang in the air, and the refrain ‘if you don't come, I'll come, I'll steal’ sounds like a gentle threat, ready to turn indifference into action. Silence cuts deeper than any words, and every missed call turns into a small disaster that you want to fix - whether by theft or by text message.

A hangover in the spirit of Argentina, a flat tyre and scenes from some strange comedy - all this is nearby, like a backdrop for meaningless but warm attempts to regain attention. They only call on weekends, sex temporarily fixes the breakdown in the relationship, and then silence again: the melody is both flirtatious and vulnerable, with a distinct touch of the ‘bad’ hero, who for some reason evokes sympathy.

The result is a mixture of jealousy, care and slight self-importance: a readiness to storm off if the door is not opened, and the ability to laugh at one's own pathos. In this dirty romance, there is moonlight, a dim car interior and a smell that promises to linger longer than words. The silence is already unbearable - better to let them steal it back.