While he was tasting the country merlot, I was sitting in the corner with a loaf of bread and a bundle of grapes, their fruity fingers taunting me as I dangled the fruits above my gaping mouth. As I worked the seeds out from between my teeth, I saw a red-dressed lady swirling chardonnay in a long-stemmed glass, only she was paying attention to me and not the wine.
there is a thrill in learning
in tasting the knowledge
letting it linger upon our lips
spread across our tongues
slowly coating our receptors
guiding us to know
When I hear ‘tasting’ I always think of something vaguely erotic. Like tasting a kiss. I’d like to taste your kiss. I’m in no mood for poetry today.
Or subtlety.
Is that going to scare you off?
Wine-tasting has always been my pleasure. I travel the coast of California, and I am simply in heaven. I don’t always go for the most expensive; in fact, I thrive on finding the best-tasting, least expensive wines that please my palate. Pinot Grigio, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Cabernet–delightful tongue twisting tasting sips.
Treating yourself in times of need
Asking yourself, Why have I done this to myself?
Surely you are worth it
Telling yourself it wasen’t your fault
In any form, give yourself the satisfaction
Now is the time
Greatness is your best quality
Tasting your future even though the past has been hard.
taste food cause its food. its good and worth a try. every reasonable person should TASTE food when they eat or else they are an alien. tasting is the greatest thing possible cause you enjoy doing it.
tasting the sweetness of silence she smiled
cause she hadn’t been alone in a very long while
alone but not lonely…much to her surprise
a peace unfolded right before her eyes
the fight or flight left
anxiety did too
she remembered whom she was
her kids saw that too
though her actions were judged
and misunderstood
understanding would unfold
she knew that it would
cause there’s a current of truth
that flows through the air
right in front of our noses
… so unaware?
tasting the sweetness of truth
she pressed on
into this mystery
both here and beyond…
my tongue hurts from the burning spices. My tongue feels thick and sore. The spices were red, a brick red and very pungent to my nose. Wine, I need wine to go with this dish the next time I make it, or rather, the next time my husband makes it. He does ALL the cooking, thankfully! I hate to cook, I really, really do! Call it a flaw if you want to, my mother-in-law does. I can’t fake like it’s something I want to do anymore. I admit, I hate cooking!
It was lunch. Olivia had made it through the entire morning. No one knew. No one knew at all. That gave Olivia a sort of sick pride. She sat down with the other cheerleaders, who didn’t even give her a second look. She tasted her sandwich. It was peanut butter. Only her sister liked peanut butter, and her sister was dead now. Olivia pulled out the napkin from the green and blue lunch bag. Written in her stepmom’s long loopy cursive were only two words, but they made Olivia’s heart beat just a tad bit faster. All it said was I KNOW.
Tasting things is fun. I taste things for fun, it’s fun. Tasty I’ll say after I tasted. Once I tasted something so hard that it broke and it was the saddest christmas ever.
disappointment tastes like poptarts without frosting, like the english-style ale with the label decorated with a woman in a corset, full and fleshy pushing outward, tastes like the self-hatred one feels when they didn’t go out today to do what needs to be done. it tastes like right now.
too late today. or maybe too early. it’s been the same time everyday for the past decade. tomorrow we go to the coast. tomorrow will be different. sort of. today i make brownies. today is last night. sleepovers sleeping. over. ugh coffee and creme fraiche and soy milk and cinnamon. ugh sunlight and homework. ugh oneword.com. we don’t usually do this haphazard commentary. this truth about our dietary habits. today is still asleep. today coffee can’t cure.
Tasting the bitter desert air on my dry chapped lips, I slowly drag myself onward. How the hell did I end up here in the first place? It was all the captain’s idea… Why did I ever trust that loony meatbag? I figured he was a good guy, and I trusted him. And look where that got me.
I licked my lips and smiled. Jonah had always said grapes were delicious, it was only just now that I had gotten to test his theory, and I would have to say, they certainly are delicious.
tasting came naturally, like breathing, like talking and breathing and pausing naturally for breath. he put his tongue delicately against the fruit. he bit to allow the juice to seep into his mouth.
remember that time we went to the tasting, and you grabbed my hand from under the table and pulled me outside under the deck and tore my red jacket off me? remember that time you pushed me so hard up against the wall and kissed my juicy lips. I fell under a spell that night, I’ve been yours ever since.
He walks alone the dark alley, tasting the dark solitary confinement of what resulted from the actions he had done. He had a choice but nevertheless, he chose to embrace this predicament. He had the world going but he went never aiming for glory
Opening the fridge I had no choice but to empty the contents all over the kitchen table. And then the tasting frenzy began. I was eating sweet with savoury, the fresh with the sour and stale – there was no shame. I had to eat the contents before the family arrived home.
I couldn’t get rid of the taste of his mouth. It lingered all day. All of my thoughts floated to him and how his kisses reminded me of eating cherry pie in the spring. The soft breeze blowing through my hair, I wanted to kiss him and never stop again.
I am tasting the sweetness of a mocha in the morning. Sitting in the uni library i procrastinate the work i have ahead of me today and listen to the frivolous girls in the corner gossiping and sharing secrets with the world. The taste of today is bittersweet.
I tasted the blood boiling inside of my veins. I sat up with force and purpose. I counted each sit up and was moved by the endorphins rushing through my brain. Nothing felt better than this, and nothing tasted better than victory. I would win, and I would make sure that everyone knew. It was deserved, and no one would get away without knowing my name.
Tasting her salty tears as they slide down her face, she slowly looks up at all of the beauty around her. Why should she feel this way when there’s a world out there that yearns to be explored? Why can’t she let go of the pains and evils that cripple her? There’s other things to which she can devote her time and her life. The beauty reminds her that there is a power greater than her, greater than everyone else. This greater power desperately wants her to see that when she loves herself she is set free. She can fly in any direction she wants. She does not have to condemn herself to this cruel world when she loves herself. For there are heavens above that welcome her with open arms and promises of a lightness that even her happiest days on earth cannot match.
I was tasting a strawberry out of the garden.
“Lovely,” I said, glancing over at my companion. I turned back to the berry and continued munching.
My companion too was occupying himself with the garden, choosing instead to nibble on the lettuce. He hadn’t responded, which wasn’t surprising with his mouth full of lettuce. That, and he was a rabbit.
Tasting is when you put something in your mouth and can sense what the flavours, textures, and yumminess is in the food. dogs have better taste buds then humans. Taste buds let you taste.
Crouched by the window, Jensen and the Ninja Babe could see the vehicle occupants tasting the air, scanning the courtyard for anything moving. Suddenly Jensen was pulled sideways and before he could react the Ninja Babe was on top of him pressing her lips to his in an impassioned kiss.
You kissed me then and I was soon tasting the sweet strawberries on your lips. You opened your mouth and I stifled a groan. You were almost too good at this.
While he was tasting the country merlot, I was sitting in the corner with a loaf of bread and a bundle of grapes, their fruity fingers taunting me as I dangled the fruits above my gaping mouth. As I worked the seeds out from between my teeth, I saw a red-dressed lady swirling chardonnay in a long-stemmed glass, only she was paying attention to me and not the wine.
there is a thrill in learning
in tasting the knowledge
letting it linger upon our lips
spread across our tongues
slowly coating our receptors
guiding us to know
i could taste his flesh between my teeth, the metaly flavor lingering in my mouth, reminding me of the horrible thing it had just done.
I’m still tasting you on my tongue. After all this time. Sexy bastard.
Tasting failures in life makes us strong. Though, I have to admit that I don’t like it very much. I hate losing. I hate not getting what I want.
I throw a strawberry into my mouth. The sweet and sour flavor explodes and I shiver with content.
When I hear ‘tasting’ I always think of something vaguely erotic. Like tasting a kiss. I’d like to taste your kiss. I’m in no mood for poetry today.
Or subtlety.
Is that going to scare you off?
Tasting the salty spray of the ocean as it attaches itself to the breeze. It spritzes my face, cooling it of the noonday heat.
Wine-tasting has always been my pleasure. I travel the coast of California, and I am simply in heaven. I don’t always go for the most expensive; in fact, I thrive on finding the best-tasting, least expensive wines that please my palate. Pinot Grigio, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Cabernet–delightful tongue twisting tasting sips.
Winetasting. Berries and water in a stew. Yummie! Enjoy the little things in life. Tounge. Sences.
Treating yourself in times of need
Asking yourself, Why have I done this to myself?
Surely you are worth it
Telling yourself it wasen’t your fault
In any form, give yourself the satisfaction
Now is the time
Greatness is your best quality
Tasting your future even though the past has been hard.
taste food cause its food. its good and worth a try. every reasonable person should TASTE food when they eat or else they are an alien. tasting is the greatest thing possible cause you enjoy doing it.
tasting the sweetness of silence she smiled
cause she hadn’t been alone in a very long while
alone but not lonely…much to her surprise
a peace unfolded right before her eyes
the fight or flight left
anxiety did too
she remembered whom she was
her kids saw that too
though her actions were judged
and misunderstood
understanding would unfold
she knew that it would
cause there’s a current of truth
that flows through the air
right in front of our noses
… so unaware?
tasting the sweetness of truth
she pressed on
into this mystery
both here and beyond…
my tongue hurts from the burning spices. My tongue feels thick and sore. The spices were red, a brick red and very pungent to my nose. Wine, I need wine to go with this dish the next time I make it, or rather, the next time my husband makes it. He does ALL the cooking, thankfully! I hate to cook, I really, really do! Call it a flaw if you want to, my mother-in-law does. I can’t fake like it’s something I want to do anymore. I admit, I hate cooking!
The sweet and salty taste of your neck after you’ve been working. The smell of your hair, cinnamon, apples, gingerbread. I could eat you right up.
It was lunch. Olivia had made it through the entire morning. No one knew. No one knew at all. That gave Olivia a sort of sick pride. She sat down with the other cheerleaders, who didn’t even give her a second look. She tasted her sandwich. It was peanut butter. Only her sister liked peanut butter, and her sister was dead now. Olivia pulled out the napkin from the green and blue lunch bag. Written in her stepmom’s long loopy cursive were only two words, but they made Olivia’s heart beat just a tad bit faster. All it said was I KNOW.
Tasting things is fun. I taste things for fun, it’s fun. Tasty I’ll say after I tasted. Once I tasted something so hard that it broke and it was the saddest christmas ever.
disappointment tastes like poptarts without frosting, like the english-style ale with the label decorated with a woman in a corset, full and fleshy pushing outward, tastes like the self-hatred one feels when they didn’t go out today to do what needs to be done. it tastes like right now.
too late today. or maybe too early. it’s been the same time everyday for the past decade. tomorrow we go to the coast. tomorrow will be different. sort of. today i make brownies. today is last night. sleepovers sleeping. over. ugh coffee and creme fraiche and soy milk and cinnamon. ugh sunlight and homework. ugh oneword.com. we don’t usually do this haphazard commentary. this truth about our dietary habits. today is still asleep. today coffee can’t cure.
Tasting the bitter desert air on my dry chapped lips, I slowly drag myself onward. How the hell did I end up here in the first place? It was all the captain’s idea… Why did I ever trust that loony meatbag? I figured he was a good guy, and I trusted him. And look where that got me.
toes tasting water-
this moment we think
will be the best
of our lives.
this moment we
will later think about
when we worry
we have let the
wrong person go.
bread
yum
olive oil
chocolate
dark chocolate
wine
savignon blanc
sangria
butter
pizza
stone
sun-dried tomatoes
garlic
basil
tomatoes
I licked my lips and smiled. Jonah had always said grapes were delicious, it was only just now that I had gotten to test his theory, and I would have to say, they certainly are delicious.
tasting came naturally, like breathing, like talking and breathing and pausing naturally for breath. he put his tongue delicately against the fruit. he bit to allow the juice to seep into his mouth.
remember that time we went to the tasting, and you grabbed my hand from under the table and pulled me outside under the deck and tore my red jacket off me? remember that time you pushed me so hard up against the wall and kissed my juicy lips. I fell under a spell that night, I’ve been yours ever since.
He walks alone the dark alley, tasting the dark solitary confinement of what resulted from the actions he had done. He had a choice but nevertheless, he chose to embrace this predicament. He had the world going but he went never aiming for glory
an explosion of flavor, my tastes buds sizzle and awaken to discover a new world
Opening the fridge I had no choice but to empty the contents all over the kitchen table. And then the tasting frenzy began. I was eating sweet with savoury, the fresh with the sour and stale – there was no shame. I had to eat the contents before the family arrived home.
Your lips, your tongue
I’m still waiting for a taste
after all the years.
I think it would be sweet.
I couldn’t get rid of the taste of his mouth. It lingered all day. All of my thoughts floated to him and how his kisses reminded me of eating cherry pie in the spring. The soft breeze blowing through my hair, I wanted to kiss him and never stop again.
I am tasting the sweetness of a mocha in the morning. Sitting in the uni library i procrastinate the work i have ahead of me today and listen to the frivolous girls in the corner gossiping and sharing secrets with the world. The taste of today is bittersweet.
I tasted the blood boiling inside of my veins. I sat up with force and purpose. I counted each sit up and was moved by the endorphins rushing through my brain. Nothing felt better than this, and nothing tasted better than victory. I would win, and I would make sure that everyone knew. It was deserved, and no one would get away without knowing my name.
Tasting her salty tears as they slide down her face, she slowly looks up at all of the beauty around her. Why should she feel this way when there’s a world out there that yearns to be explored? Why can’t she let go of the pains and evils that cripple her? There’s other things to which she can devote her time and her life. The beauty reminds her that there is a power greater than her, greater than everyone else. This greater power desperately wants her to see that when she loves herself she is set free. She can fly in any direction she wants. She does not have to condemn herself to this cruel world when she loves herself. For there are heavens above that welcome her with open arms and promises of a lightness that even her happiest days on earth cannot match.
I was tasting a strawberry out of the garden.
“Lovely,” I said, glancing over at my companion. I turned back to the berry and continued munching.
My companion too was occupying himself with the garden, choosing instead to nibble on the lettuce. He hadn’t responded, which wasn’t surprising with his mouth full of lettuce. That, and he was a rabbit.
Tasting love is tasting God because he is love.
The taste always never stops shorts but always follow through.
He’d never done it before. Well, he had, but on the other end. He’d never actually -done- it.
“I can do it first, if you want.”
“No, it’s fine…”
“I don’t mind, John.”
“I know…”
But he’d never get another chance, he knew. He’d always wanted to taste him anyway.
“Brace yourself, love.”
“Alright. And we don’t have t–oh my God…”
Rendered speechless? That was new. The look on his face? Priceless, for sure.
John could definitely get used to this.
Tasting is when you put something in your mouth and can sense what the flavours, textures, and yumminess is in the food. dogs have better taste buds then humans. Taste buds let you taste.
Crouched by the window, Jensen and the Ninja Babe could see the vehicle occupants tasting the air, scanning the courtyard for anything moving. Suddenly Jensen was pulled sideways and before he could react the Ninja Babe was on top of him pressing her lips to his in an impassioned kiss.
You kissed me then and I was soon tasting the sweet strawberries on your lips. You opened your mouth and I stifled a groan. You were almost too good at this.
While i was tasting the cake , my chair broke and I fell on the floor with a loud thud .