“Like a ghost that dances on the tip of a lit cigarette, I know what romance is, but it hasn't happened yet. Watch it floating up to heaven only knows, Disappearing before you get too close- It's only smoke. You… — Jane Monheit Copy Share Image
The sensual caress of waist deep cold smoke… glory in skiing virgin snow, in being the first to mark the powder with the signature of their run. — Tim Cahill Copy Share Image
