A Monologue on Reality

We are never alone
Though we wish to believe
That we are.

The lover and the beloved crave anonymity,
But in their most passionate embrace
They are not alone.

They cannot shake off their fantasies
Which always involve the other
Or a metamorphosed self.

They cannot take those repetitive movements
Of primordial life they hanker
For very long.

For thinking beings that they are
They are all too quickly repulsed
By disturbing closeness.

See for yourself
What Hamlet tells Ophelia
Or Thanatos says to Eros.

We are never ‘in the other’
Though we wish to believe
That we are.