There is one hallway of the school
that everyone dubs “make-out alley.”
During breaks and lunch,
amorous couples congregate there.
Clouds of hormones are as palpable
as thick fog.
But even more disgusting
was seeing Liz there, pressed up against Timothy.
Luckily, I didn’t have to look for long.
The principal came by,
breaking up all the couples.
Liz detached herself from Timothy.
It looked almost painful,
like ripping a bandage off.
But as soon as the principal
turned the corner,
they adhered to each other again.
I meandered away,
careful not to lose myself
in hormonal fog.