Each lover has some theory of his own <br />About the difference between the ache <br />Of being with his love, and being alone: <br /> <br />Why what, when dreaming, is dear flesh and bone <br />That really stirs the senses, when awake, <br />Appears a simulacrum of his own. <br /> <br />Narcissus disbelieves in the unknown; <br />He cannot join his image in the lake <br />So long as he assumes he is alone. <br /> <br />The child, the waterfall, the fire, the stone, <br />Are always up to mischief, though, and take <br />The universe for granted as their own. <br /> <br />The elderly, like Proust, are always prone <br />To think of love as a subjective fake; <br />The more they love, the more they feel alone. <br /> <br />Whatever view we hold, it must be shown <br />Why every lover has a wish to make <br />Some kind of otherness his own: <br />Perhaps, in fact, we never are alone.<br /><br />WH Auden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/are-you-there/
