Blueberries and You

My fingertips, your fingertips, both covered in bloom My tongue, your tongue, tinted with a red dye You would share your fruit with me, a push of the carton, a handful of your gesture We'd masticate through dialogue that detailed the current shifts that were changing us Semesters change patterns and that spring was our last moment of matching in time I hold a thought for you when I have to rub my fingertips together The cloud-like substance falls like chalk in an old classroom Most of the time I bathe them like laundry to be spread on a clothesline All I needed in the city of sky colored hues was you and berries that blossomed blue Not in the eyes of possession, but the satisfaction of expectation Sweet nourishment in exchange for sweet nothings was everything to me I miss the idea of someone not desiring anything from me