Anche Stasera

Love at two hundred miles per hour, without brakes, without rules, with a cigarette and the smell of leather under the blanket. Everything is too loud, too close: words, shouts, kisses, the hum of rain on the glass. It seems the world collapsed a long time ago, and these two are still arguing and kissing as if it's the same action. Body heat is replaced by icy air, then heat again, and then cold again – the eternal sine wave of those who can't love calmly. They know how painfully you can hold someone close, and how sweetly you can forget how the argument started. Everything is falling apart and being glued back together, like an old cracked vinyl record that's still playing their song.