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.