I wrote you a letter and took it to bed
To ponder upon all the words that I said
Some of them sank like the heaviest lead
And I started to doubt whether they should be read
A hot pursuit broke out while I tread
I thought I'd be running until I was dead
But when I inhaled the scent of their bread
I stopped pressing onward and ate them instead
My mind began racing, so quickly it sped
Causing a halo of smoke overhead
I realized the ink from the pen never bled
The letter I wrote was all in my head

And in that one blackberry were all the tastes of summer. All the flowers, wildfires, ****, and ice cream bars. In one small fruit was an entire season: from the moment you stepped off campus to the last stitch you knit before you fell asleep. The day you found your first tiger lily and your heart melted like it did the first time you kissed her lips. And the first night you danced like no one was watching. It was also heartbreak, longing, tears, and resent. Every time you cried remembering complete bliss that slipped away. Every time you looked at his face hoping and longing to kiss his lips. They danced like his hands did when he scaled that redwood by the ocean. And the moment he looked down at you to smile your throat caught and your blood started rushing faster. But you drove him down that windy road by the river and that was the last time you saw him. Now it's every time you curled up on your bed at 4pm crippled simply by reality. And after that season was gone, taken by all the leaves that withered in the record heat, after you still couldn't believe you lost everything that you ever loved. You took another berry from the vine and withered in the memory of all the days that vanished while we were climbing trees and getting lost.

Echoes of dreams of the thinking that
lifted soft fingers from opening scenes