is this seat taken

her skin, tanned into a
leathery ox brown.
fingers and neck,
ankles blinged out
to a shiny max.
like fishing lures
on her long legged
body as she swims
through the bar, between
the lily pads,
the rocks on spinning
stools, through
the deep swirl
of music and darkness.
a mane of hair,
brushed up and out.
sixty going on thirty
with her wild
phone blinking in one
free hand, the other
holding a cosmo
seeking the kindness
of any stranger
to give their seat up.