Loose Lips

Her tongue refused to stay in her mouth. Skin slick, it played games with her shadow, winding its tacky texture through her legs and around her back, making it difficult to speak especially when confronted by a lover. This is when her tongue usually tried to run off, padding down her chest, across her elbows on the way to the ground, leaving her twisted and tied to the spot, while the tongue worked on its waves and curls, tasting the filth of the world, and lusting for umami and sugar, the tart stab of lime, and the spice of pepper.