A Passer By

There is a pool of blood
Cool and deep
Congealing beneath the head
Of a perfect stranger
Who I poke with a stick
Out of simple curiosity
It's not like I killed this person.
There is a disconnect
He is him,
And I am me
There is nothing here to bind us.
Still, here lies an oddity
A thing easily captured in a million words,
None of which do it justice.
An odd turning of the Earth
Which will envelop him.
I reach out and pinch my hand,
Holding my breath,
I exhale.
Why don't I feel anything?