Part Twelve - The Boy Who Couldn't Taste #2

I have no tongue. It fell out of my mouth a few miles down the road. My throat has filled with sand and i have started kissing strangers. My tongue is a metaphor but i still don't know what it represents

I remember water.
It was soothing and cool.
It was tasteless.

I still have a tongue but it doesn't work. It is used for sex and for wetting my lips when they burn. It is used to clean the sand from my teeth when i am fingerless and it is my feet when i cannot walk. My tongue is the rain and it is the path through the desert. My tongue is the other half of me. The man who feels my feelings and dreams my nightmares.

I have a tongue.

Tongues taste wine, chocolate and shit.

I cannot taste you.