At the Medical Store

It was supposed to end like this;

You and I, both strangers,

Bumping into each other, 

In a medical store;

You looking for sleeping aid,

I, for Bandaid for a small cut.

It had to end this way.

Both of us looking away,

At the jar of lip balms;

The smell of antiseptic,

Strong and pungent,

Wafting in from next door.

It had to end this way.

The screeching of brakes,

The noise of a hundred babblers.

You and I cocooned in opportunity,

The grim shop front hiding us.

The overflowing racks of medicines,

Cosmetics and Condoms,

Clamoring for attention.

And there we were, oblivious of everything,

But, what we had ordered.