Yet another dream about him and I

A few months ago was the first
Where in class we planned an art heist
Leading us to some “alone time”

Last night I had another
Just as vivid as the first
I could smell the wood of the pencils
Be blinded by the classroom projector
Hear the footsteps of the approaching teacher
Feel the cold plastic of the chairs on my skin

Here I am
Wondering why I dream of him
When we’ve grown so far apart