Saturday, June 19

I wrote this for you.

He takes the first puff, inhale and as the calmness of the smoke rushes over him, he closes his eyes. Carried away by his own fantasies, he tries to forget his problems. Exhale.

The smoke slowly fills in the small room.

"You're different now", she whispers to his ears.

"In what sense?", he replies, turning his body to face her and takes the second puff. There is a sense of tiredness in his voice.

She let his mind wanders and and lays her head on his shoulder, pulling him close to her. Her hair falls down his shoulder and it smells good. Her dress slips, revealing one shoulder. She is in every men dreams, wrapped in the tight, silky black dress which shows off her luscious curve.

"You don't need this", she takes the cigarette out of his mouth.

His hands curl around her waist and he pulls her closer. She brings her face closer to his and let her lips brush over his cheek. Like a stray kitten craving for love, he feels so comfortable, and loved, and free.

Cigarette. Love. He doesn't need a cigarette. He now has love, from the woman he'd known forever.


and he feels comfortable like that, just like that.