Now and Then

Photography: Unknown

Some day's I really miss smoking.

I miss the beauty of the unpredictable patterns the smoke creates, the crackle and burn of the tobacco.  Its scent has become a living reminder of moments celebrated, moments lost, and the growing pains of my youth.

I miss the first inhale and exhale, the weight of the cigarette between my fingers and the caress of the filter against my lips. It was a secret romance, nothing short of a wild passionate love affair, until it wasn't.

In private, and on occasion I wish I could go back. -tM

Smoke is in the Air

I belong to the very elite club of finding le fumé to be very sensual and attractive. Let me preface this by saying that owning the ritual of le fumé is mysterious and mesmerizing on only a select few.

It is a natural extension of who they are, an invitation to come closer, to see the world from their perspective. The smoke leaves their lips like a secret lingering waiting to be caught.

An accessory that can seldom accompany an outfit not worn with confidence. Those chosen few who le fumé with grace and style, know this, and wear the cigarette like a perfume that may even make the most sanctimonious of individuals convert. -tM

Photography: Unknown