NO.267 Smoke

Smoke slowly swirls under the dim yellow light. She wears a deep black cheongsam with a slightly open collar, her gaze as hazy and seductive as silk. The half-drawn curtains slice the night and light-shadow into an ambiguous boundary. The lace edges of her stockings faintly appear through the smoke. With every breath she exhales, the air grows thicker and more suggestive. She tilts her head slightly, the cigarette held between her fingertips trembling gently, resembling a forbidden dream frozen in time—sexy, aloof, yet carrying a fatal allure.

Chun Momo