But once or twice in every song, he would put his horn to his lips, stand ramrod straight, and play sweet, fast notes that danced in the air.

FORBES: Jazz, Schizophrenia And Side Effects

Her lips were soft and warm and she smelled of something sweet and vaguely spicy.

NEWYORKER: The Proxy Marriage

The sugar on your lips and fingers and possibly on your nose, too that sweet dust is me, your astronaut, your lostronaut, your Janice.

NEWYORKER: Lostronaut