Blackberries glide down my throat.
While Blueberries push back the words
That should not be spoken.
The air in this classroom is stale.
This moment feels so still.

You come to mind like a 1940's picture show
Grainy memories covered in bitter-sweet nostalgia.
Your hair blows in the wind
The film skips
Now, your car is drowning on the Boulevard
I blink
And you're next to me in your car seat
Starring at me with those eyes that Cancers have
Big, deep, doe-like, and dark
In them, I can sink and drown.

The raspberries glide down my throat
While the pineapples push back my hope
That my email notification will ping.
That, maybe, you will respond to me.
With a 2010-friendly tone.