She tastes like sweet red wine and strawberry Chapstick, the smoothness of caramel lingering at the very edge. Darker berries chase happy thoughts, faith, and trust over her tongue. 

He tastes like the bite of dark beer and the lingering heat of wasabi. Thoughts and ideas broad and wide and deep and high coil around his tongue and wreath his head like a fine, white-blue smoke. Or is it the other way around?

Art and magic, science and philosophy, beliefs and needs, thoughts and actions, even what you wear can color a kiss. It’s all part of the memory, part of the storied moment. 

Hints of sweet and spice, splashes of refreshment or a sharp, heated bite, perhaps even more so than your teeth could give. Your thoughts and feelings can slip out in a kiss, for better or worse, no matter how you might try to stop them. It’s like your soul slipping out between your lips, so that someone knows it’s there.