Elegy
	I'm told that the symptoms of falling in love Are the same as those that come from grief Loss of appetite; abstraction; The air is almost too rich to breathe Yet you can't stop sighing; Moving at all feels foolish If not dangerous -- You turn a corner and nearly leave your bones behind; Weeping because the sky's so blue Or because a tiny baby's neck is too skinny and weak To hold up its head But its eyes drink in the world just the same
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