August 7, 2020
Until I Can’t Feel You Anymore
By Luke Samra
From that balcony, live blues boogie
Through fleur-de-lis railing
Crows feet parentheses round my cheeks
Hurdle toll gates
Corn on every corner is ever blonde
Morning Star has turned leaves and fields into a self portrait
Weathervane points to where we vacationed
Her hair ruffles like grape leaves ruffled in coastal breeze
If I could smoke a bonfire, I would.
I play my electric until my fingers
Write City Magazine is currently open to submissions. See submission guidelines.
Write City Magazine
Write City Review
Windy City Reviews
Book of the Year
First Chapter Contest
Chicago Writers Association
Make a Difference!