They taste like the house I once lived in
They are natural, organic and
Have absorbed the aromas and the habits
In their flavor
As I eat these seeds
The old house comes alive
The memory so gladly forgotten
And tucked away
Is resurected
By the encription of their flavor
These seeds of the sunflower
Have made it spring
They have erected the frame
They have rebuilt the walls
And shine their light
On this memory sprouting in me
Unroasted, unsalted, and raw
I eat this old house
I eat my roomates
I eat the unwashed dishes
I eat the music that was played
G. Flores
They are natural, organic and
Have absorbed the aromas and the habits
In their flavor
As I eat these seeds
The old house comes alive
The memory so gladly forgotten
And tucked away
Is resurected
By the encription of their flavor
These seeds of the sunflower
Have made it spring
They have erected the frame
They have rebuilt the walls
And shine their light
On this memory sprouting in me
Unroasted, unsalted, and raw
I eat this old house
I eat my roomates
I eat the unwashed dishes
I eat the music that was played
G. Flores
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