his lips remind me of
an unhusked sunflower seed
their taste is the same:
salty, a bit bitter
his lips are opening shells of seed

when my tongue caresses his ear
I remember Van Gogh
and think of what would be,
what would happen, if I bit –

I don’t want to return
his body
I’ll leave yellow blossoms as change
black seeds

what would grow if I were to sow those lips like seed?