Five Sentence Fiction Spasm

Last minute 5SF post!  Too late to make it to the links at Lillie McFerrin's lovely site.  But I had an urge to get back in the flash game.  Fiction, that is.  So here's one for the prompt: faces.

If he's smoking while he makes a political point, his lip will curl up the same way it does when he's tearing lettuce leaves. After a long walk, he'll hold your hand lightly in his because he says he can feel the pulse in your fingers. “Still breathing,” he says. Noses never stop growing and his will only get longer. But you'll be under by then; leaving the trace of all these gestures.