How shall I hold my soul and yet not touch It with your own? How shall I ever place It clear of you on anything beyond? Oh gladly I would stow it next to such Things in the darkness as are never found Down in an alien and silent space That does not resonate when you resound. But everything that touches me and you Takes us together like a bow on two Taut strings to stroke them to the voice of one. What instrument have we been lain along? Whose are the hands that play our unison? Oh sweet song!