I hear heartbeats in the walls.
People laugh, and they suggest
air systems or water pipes.
But I can tell that something's there,
something forgotten behind the plaster.
I can hear the pulsing and the breathing,
and sometimes it stops like it's waiting.
I'm supposed to listen to the professor,
who talks and talks and is occasionally funny,
but I find myself distracted
by the heartbeats in the walls.