“This is a one,” you say, “and this another,”
and effortlessly I follow to where you mean:
things whole and closed, like apples on a sill.
But “one”? To suggest “complete,” “compact,” “atomic”
fetches too far and brings too little back.
One is so fully a point it no more than points—
there, over there, that your limiting lets you sum to,
past what are these—scrims, space and time—to form per se.