To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Shane Jones's previous piece To Shane Jones's next piece
I Was the Last One I sat at the bar with blurred images of you and someone else, smoking cigarettes into a chilly winter air I could taste after each drink. I sketched a border and odd shapes on a cocktail napkin trying to think of something else. A clean counter and speechless jukebox said I was the last one. Before paying the tab I rubbed two fingers around the lip of a shot glass. I pretended I tucked a strand of hair behind the curve of your ear. I tried to hold it there.
To the top of this page