Polvere

When love turns to ashes, the air still smells of it. Take a deep breath and it's like we're together again, even though you know it's been a long time. In this soundtrack for broken mornings and long evenings, a heart beats that stubbornly pretends to be stone. Words cut softly, like a cold knife, they don't kill, but they leave a mark. Music is like it's gliding along the thin line between "I want to forget" and "I can't let go." Each line is like a message that was never sent: it hangs in the air, where unspoken words and old cigarette smoke still linger. And even though only dust remains of it, you can still see the outline of what was once a home.