not sleeping anymore

"life is a rhythm,"

he says, hesitating, tapping his foot with the thud of the base. "You have to move with it," his broad smile illuminates the sun- kissed wrinkles that extend from his eyes like long lashes. His words taste like sand and salt and weathered air. He is smiling at a woman twice his age, and meaning it. He leans in closer when the surrounding music becomes slightly intrusive. The bar stool shakes beneath him from the stomping of feet to the beat, but his eyes do not waiver.

posted by d @ 4:06 PM