It’s a scorching day.

Outside, it’s unbearable...

In the apartment,
I’ve turned on the air conditioner,
but it’s struggling to keep up.

I lie down on the floor,
where it’s a bit cooler,
and wait,
with a book of poetry in hand,
for at least 4 PM,
to know that the sun has turned
its gaze more toward the infinite
and left us a little in peace.

There’s no escape,
not even after a shower...
My skin never dries.
It feels as if stoves are burning in the air.

I place my laptop on my knees
and push on,
working on my thesis.

Oh,
if only I could,
I would train the cuckoo in the clock,
so that every hour,
it would ask the Lord
for a summer rain.