Arc white

Days
glare arc white
nights
are warm sanctuary
heat
invades
my body,
my dreams.
Sweat
slowly
beads,
sticks,
mind's eye
wide
with
a younger man's
lust
remembers
hot
photo flashes
other summers
other nights
of burned, burning
bodies
clinging
in back seats
in fresh grass
under blue-violet
streetlamps,
yet
with no regret
finds presence
before
your cool
paradox.