There I sat, feeling a furnace of heat.
Every moment drawing the coolness from within,
In exchange…the burn.
It was all I could do to stay focused,
My heart racing,
My blood pulsing,
My body doing all possible to soothe the intensity of this moment.
But the cause was neither nature’s heat,
Nor the humidity,
This August day was not to blame.
I had just caught a glimpse of you.
© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.