Friday PDA

It's Friday
and everyone is kissing
in the hallway

the grown-ups
pass by
we overlook
the flat-brimmed caps
the earbuds
texting
and kisses.

We look away
but glance back
half-smiling.

On this first day in May
who are we to steal kisses
from young infatuants?
These moments that may
never return
The young do not see
they are stealing
these sweets.

But who will the teachers kiss
in the hallway?
We breeze by
the springtime rituals
through the hallways
of time
to those midnight wishes
when we
along the passages
of our youths
kissed or
wished to be kissed. 
There was no in-between.

It's no fair.
My kisser's not there
leaning in his armor
outside my second period
or texting me
blossoms between
quiz questions.

Still, I cannot steal
their throbbing
springtime pleasures.
I leave these islands
of ephemeral hope
to get themselves to class
on time.