In between the desks
there are whispers,
whispers that seem too loud for my ears.
Abstract secrets and ideas shared
between friends and strangers
within one foot of emptiness
that we call personal space.
The space that has us worrying
about the amount of breath mints in our backpack
and if our breakfast could be stuck in our teeth.
The space that is irrelevant
when surrounded by the people you love.
The space between the desks
that is uncomfortably necessary.