I opened the door to a stranger

I opened the door to a stranger

Wondering at his appearance,

Who was more confused?

We were all boxed up

Repackaged, wrapped up separately

Divided into sections

Placed side by side

It was like a cemetery

With fewer flowers.

Did he have a worldview

Was he restricted by mobility

Or the high-rise complex

Which blocked out all the light

Did he have a reason to believe

Or was his situation

Too unclear.

Something about his appearance

Was familiar

Although I did not know his name

Perhaps he was a neighbour

In need of some assistance

A cup of sugar

A glass of sipping whisky

A chat over coffee

Looking out over the house next door

Through the space between rooftops

At a sliver of blue.

A sea view

Was advertised

But only from the rooftop garden

Nobody stayed up there very long

The heat from the sun

Burned holes in the dermis.

The glazed expression

Was a worry

Either he was having a stroke

Or choking on a chicken bone

Sorely in need of a slap on the back

Or the Heimlich manoeuvre

Which was quite an intimate thing to do

To a stranger.

I believe I said all of these words out loud,

He mouthed them back

In parody

Or an empathetic response

Perhaps he was an expert in body language

Reflecting techniques and mirroring

Which is an unusual gift

To present itself in the dead of the night

When the world had ended

At midnight.

We faced each other

Even as the lights dimmed,

A lack of motion tripping the sensors

Into submission.

I could see him clearly

The very fact of him

At that time and in that place,

Confusion writ large across his face,

Was a cause of acute embarrassment

For as long as it took

To lock and bolt the door

Leaving him on the other side.

I knew him not

And yet

It pains me so to say,

I knew him so well.