An Observation

This is something else I wrote for my creative writing class. I was watching someone smoke a few weeks ago and lines of this kept coming into my head so when I got home I wrote it out. I hate smoking more than almost anything, but for some reason it is captivating to me. That being said, here you go, cool picture and all.

Your lips close, in an almost caress, around the cigarette. You look down as you inhale, the veins in your neck straining. Your hand drops. You are still, just for an instant, as you hold the poison in your mouth. Your eyes, already half closed, drift all the way shut, a smile of what seems like relief playing at the corners of your lips. Your head tips back, lolling, broken, and your mouth opens.

Thick, opaque smoke coils in the opening, then twists up into the frigid air. The designs it traces are seductive, soft, elusive. Your jaw hangs slack. You hardly seem to breathe. Then your mouth closes and the last trails of smoke steam out of your nose.

In this moment, with the white cloud of toxic mist swirling around your languid torso, you have never been more beautiful.