the sexuality of smoking pt.2

It was new years eve and she was dressed in black; she looked beautiful--but then again she always did... this night was just different. It wasn't quite midnight yet and she was sitting on the frozen back steps of a friend's house. The sky was the deepest shade of black, and the moon; a brilliant milk white. The moonbeams poured their light down upon her; illuminating her chocolate hair and caramel skin. It was freezing, as New England winters always are-- but she didn't seem to notice the cold in the air, or the foggy clouds of vapor that came billowing out of her mouth when she spoke, or when she breathed.

She picked up the rose colored lighter that was set beside her and lit a cigarette. I don't remember if there were other people around her or if she was all alone out there; but I do remember the way she would take the cigarette from her mouth and watch it slowly burn. She seemed so entranced; exchanging between deep puffs of smoke, and quick swigs of blood red wine.

She was sitting in the cold, beneath the stars, wearing a black minidress and tall heels. She looked so mysterious and dark; a true lady of the night. The cigarette she held between her fingers made her seem  elegant, and deep. I wondered if I'd ever seen someone look this sexy before. Damn, this girl belongs in vogue, I thought.

That moment was pure art. I was perplexed and fascinated as I watched her deep inhalations, exhalations, and the way the tiny embers of burning fire at the tip of her cigarette contrasted against the pure darkness of the night sky. This was the first time in my life I had ever seen smoking as anything more than a stupid habit picked up by those trying to look cool. And there she was... smoking; looking ridiculously cool, and undeniably beautiful.

Again, I'm not in any way saying that you should go pick up smoking to look mysterious and sexy; because in most scenarios, thats not the result at all.
What's sexy is when a person can be all of those things that she was that night, without smoking.
What's sexy is being mysterious by just being you, not by lighting up a cigarette. I don't want to make this sound like an anti-smoking campaign or anything but
whether we like to hear it or not, cigarettes will end up killing you, and thats so not hot.

All for now,

1 comment:

  1. My favorite memory of smoking took place on these same steps. Although I had been dabbling in smoking myself for a few months prior, this is one of those memories that will always stick with me. It was a winter party, a mixed crowd, drama arose and fell like waves sporadically crashing throughout the evening but I only had my eyes on him. We ducked outside together, I stumbled because the stairs were so steep and I already drank too much. We stood at the top and looked up at the stars as the party sounds faded behind us. He lit up, I grabbed his hand, we shared his last cigarette. Few words exchanged, our focus mostly upward, holding hands gently, calming our nerves. We headed back downstairs...