“I heard the telltale sound of scales scraping against metal--a light swoosh, a tongue flickering out to taste the stale and humid air. Whatever it was, my prey was tasting for me.”
“...remember the metallic sound and taste of all of it. And the outrage.”
“The cloud shot out in my direction. It swirled around in front of me, and it was as if the air danced, testing me, tasting me, feeling me, and it pressed up against my head.”
“Taste of metal on my tongue. Poison the color of envy-I'm delirious, you're delicious, I'm deluded and delusional.I'm lost without you. I need you.”
“My world slips away and I again taste vengeance on my tongue.”
“A bowl of pudding only has taste when I put it in my mouth - when it is in contact. with my tongue. It doesn't have taste or flavor sitting in my fridge, only the potential.”