Invisible friends

Knock, Knock, Knock

     on the door.

I’m greeted by air

     when I open it.

(Did anyone even knock at all?)

An invisible man,

calling to see how I am

I invite him in

(I am not rude)

He takes his tea, just the same as me

one sugar, and plenty of milk

We share the same cup.

And we talk

for hours, days perhaps

Of the space between the seconds

between the stars

between the world within our heads

and the world within our hands

At some point, I realise he’s tired of listening.

I walk him to the door.

He walks straight through you

(did you knock? I didn’t hear)

And waves goodbye.

I’m tired

I don’t think I’ll invite you in.


I wait for the invisible man,

I wait for him to come again.

I’m still waiting.


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