I was in José's dream last night. Here it is, with his permission:

I also had a dream that involved mouths last night.

Part of it was that we were still at the Trunk Space and you were holding a glass of water.

Being thirsty and letting that thirst fuel my thoughtlessness, I gently grabbed it out of your hand, took a swift sip, and placed it back in your palm.

You
looked
at
me
like
I
had
just
killed
a
McBrayer-kitten
in
front
of
you.

Realizing my mistake, I tried reasoning with you and tried explaining that you could drink from the other side of the glass and how since it was a quick sip that there probably wasn't any backwash--

and then, with steely determination in your eyes

you proceeded to lick my face.

My mouth is part of my face.

So, you licked that, too,

in the most clinical, mechanical way as possible.

Believe me, it was not sexy.

When you stopped -- because this literal tonguelashing happened in the time that it takes for a lightning strike to become a wildfire -- you looked at me

and you screamed like you had seen a ghost!

Not knowing what to do, I screamed, too!

When our burst of screaming stopped, you looked at me and said,

"I'm trying to get over my fear of spit."

Then, you just walked away.