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

Are calloused