Wait Until Tomorrow

She says she likes to dance but she doesn’t really like to dance: that’s what a girl says when she wants attention, when she wants a man to watch her hips and maybe put his arm around her. She turns around and back, her drink spilling over the edge of the glass, her lips greased and shining with some reddish gloss. Her head tips back and her waist circles around. The music’s changed, but she’s still dancing, if you could call it that. He orders her another drink and smiles. That’s what a man does when he wants attention, when he wants her hips against his and maybe his arm around her.


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