The room is empty.
The desks sit lifeless and pristine
across brown tweed carpet.
There’s a scent not unlike cologne,
a strong, heavy hint of masculinity,
in the air.
Everything is so empty-clean.
I am the only living thing here,
the only one to feel the room tingle.
Let me take the class alone,
the only student.
Let the voice of once-was touch me
untainted by snickers and sighs.
I want to be the only one
to soak up the words, the figures,
the life of our past.