Concomitants (ef)

I will die of many things
long before I’d die of loneliness.
I will die one million times before
solitude will be the infection, that raging sore-
I have reached out
and perhaps over-defined
nevermind-
It is the foil to unaccompaniment:
this soul never feels alone,
without music to support the principal voice.
Will death diminish this
impact or effectiveness?
I would die before I’d see this so-
and never know
nevermind, let it go.
Sometimes high-
I see over all these things and into the pure heart
of the matter-
so that when low and the crowd of things grows
thick and fatter,
keep at the top of memory
the finer oils, the lighter things afloat.
Easy to find, familiar haunts-
Will I be born a million times and still
find these concomitants?