Eyelids heavy.

I listen to the droning,

drowning

voices of my classmates.

They add their opinions.

The professor nods.

And I start to pass out.

            Then I think of you –

             less than three minutes

             away from me

             where you hide

             and avoid talking to me.

I close my eyes and nod

my head to the rhythm

of the poetry being read

aloud

by miserably untalented

readers.
            Then I think of you –

             less than three minutes

             away from me

             where you hide.

            Where I leave you to

             your hiding.