Neon
i watch her lips
purse around the top end of a cocktail straw
sucking up the last drops of a Canadian Club and diet
setting the glass arm’s length away
she lets the bartender see we need some attention
the jukebox
loaded with my ones
plays a long line of sad bastard songs
she makes the mistake of trying to keep up with me
ordering doubles
i make the mistake of peering into the mirror behind the bar
and believing what i see
foolish because
in this light
i always look like i’m winning
