Conversation À Deux

THIS fact is borne upon me plain:
We cannot meet and talk, my friend,
As strict identities, as twain
Who speak their minds, and comprehend;
Not I to you, nor you to me,
As two . . . but three confronting three.
I am that Self I wish to show
(Which is the natural human sham),
I am, as well, that Self you know,
And last, the Self I really am.
So, intricately joined, the three
Compose my triple entity!
And you are no whit different,
For every soul beneath the sun
Is curiously fused and blent,
Three personalities, not one.
Two may not meet as simple two,
However they might wish it true.