Glasses are breaking at midnight, eternal quarrels and misunderstandings, but this is the kind of love that you can give each other. Scattered things on the floor, glass fragments and puddles of wine, languid glances and clouds of smoke in the air, he holds your hand with one hand and strokes your hand with his finger while the other holds a cigarette. The eternal hatchet will never be buried.

-I love you amore-amore