Nothing so divided dwells
apart from every other thing.
No absolute detachments hold,
for all remains entangled thus:
this union - you and universe -
persists beyond perception's bent,
imperfect voids at most prepared
to separate a certain while
until physics ordain release
and walls collapse, revealing ways
one stays bound to what was once
thought abandoned, counted lost.
If you walked along, convinced
there was but the road and you,
in light, as shadows duplicate,
or darkness, still companioned fast
by unseen crowds, behind, before,
with you through most vacant fields
up distant cliffs where you could stare
confident no one were there
abstracting quite impossibly
a riddance of the world without,
accept exceptions end in doubt:
you will never soon seclude
your sense of self from multitude.
Contemplate what does include
beyond your impulse to exclude
or dispositions to preclude.
You've never known true solitude.
We'll never know true solitude.