Walking through the jungles of artificially flavored juices, thin paper towels,
and designer clothing for those on a budget,
Our paths had, somehow, crossed.
We were standing face to face, in a narrow aisle number 5.
I looked inside your basket: paper plates (pack of 40); socks (fake wool); a can of soup.
You looked into mine: SAME ITEMS.
I turned sideways, to let you pass. You couldn’t.
You tried the same. Can’t fit!
Our eyes finally met. We dropped our baskets
on the floor.
With stacks of Rubbermaid water buckets
and piles of Hanes sweatshirts
watching us silently,
We kissed tenderly and hopelessly.
At the Dollar Store.