GOT A MATCH?

from by Anarcocks

/

lyrics

Due dita e le labbra come fischiasse. Aspirando,
come implorasse. Come sapesse. Cose impossibili,
come negargliela. Come fosse facile dimenticarla.
La notte. Che gli ha strappato i jeans e non per
moda. Più come un laser di radar. Di preda che
caccia. Che scalcia. Il resto del porto che resta,
che porta alla porta. Che escono. E fumano mentre
trema la notte e non dice. Accende. La fiamma
gli rese rossastra la pelle. Rimase. L’abbaglio
nella pupilla, quelle pupille. Poi confuse come di latte
aspirandola insieme. La prima boccata. Di notte
polmonare.
_ _ _

Two fingers and lips like whistling. Breathing,
like begging. Like he knew. Impossible things,
how to deny it. As if it was easy to forget.
Night. That tore his jeans and not because it was the fashion.
More like a radar laser. Of prey hunting.
That kicks. The rest of the port that rests here,
the way to the doorway. That they come out of. And they smoke while
the night trembles and doesn’t tell. It lights up. The flame
made his skin pinkish. He stayed. The glare
in his pupil, those pupils. Then confused like milk,
breathing it in together. The first mouthful. Of pulmonary
night.

credits

from Hotel Oriente, released November 23, 2015
Lyrics by Marco Simonelli translated by Brenda Porster

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