Neon Nocturne

The bar code on your shirt still glows green

You left your coat by the jukebox at twelve
I picked it up and counted
the change in my pocket
eight dollars, two nickels.
The bouncer tapped his watch
when I asked for another round
I said ‘no thank you’ but bought
it anyway just to see him blink.

This is our neon nocturne
flashing like a sign we can’t read
You took the keys and left the door unlocked
now I’m dancing with the deadbolt in my
This is our neon nocturne
strobe lights on a broken promise
I pour your whiskey into the sink and set
it alight with the gas stove’s flame.

The DJ dropped the bass at one-fifteen
Your phone rang three times in
my purse before I turned it off.
Some guy in a sequin jacket
asked if we were together
I said ‘ex’ and showed him the

This is our neon nocturne
flashing like a sign we can’t read
You took the keys and left the door unlocked
now I’m dancing with the deadbolt in my
This is our neon nocturne
strobe lights on a broken promise
I pour your whiskey into the sink and set
it alight with the gas stove’s flame.

The floor’s sticky where you
spilled that red wine last week
Now it’s just me and the waitress
laughing at how bad my dancing is.
She slides a shot across the bar, ‘on the house’
and I drink it in one go to prove I can.

The clock above the dance floor says 2:17
I write your initials on my arm with a
Sharpie from the bartender’s drawer.

This is our neon nocturne
flashing like a sign we can’t read
You took the keys and left the door unlocked
now I’m dancing with the deadbolt in my
This is our neon nocturne
strobe lights on a broken promise
I pour your whiskey into the sink and set
it alight with the gas stove’s flame.

The taxi driver won’t take me home
he says ‘you look like you’re running from something’
So I point at the neon ‘WELCOME’ sign above
his window and say ‘I’m running toward it.’

Sunrise in a cab with my hair still
wet from the dance floor’s sweat
The driver hands me back your forgotten scarf
you left it on the backseat last month.
I roll down the window and let
the city noise swallow my scream.
The meter reads 47.60
and I press the button to make it
‘exactly’ fifty bucks before I