“In the brutal heat, as in childhood,
there is no one who can stay, I say to the heart, which
always tends to replay its exact experience of known things.

Let it go – I say- without looking for it elsewhere,
the perfect day in which the desired
and the achieved were the same. Perhaps 
what we loose does not go away, but it multiplies,
it bursts like stones when the earth trembles, 
until it is no longer possible to distinguish them
from the rain, from ourselves or from the smooth glow
of the sunlight on the grass.”

Claudia Masin, The heat.