Where you are concerned,
I see, and I notice,
But I didn't appreciate,
and I have a certain estimate
Of the volume of your mind,
A pure hypothesis I've left
Most utterly untested.
The fact is that I see you once a week,
and sometimes in the halls
and hardly talk to you at all,
But when you're away
My life plays the scatter-brained
Geographer, all over the map.
I don't know where,
and I don't know why.
I spend weeks finding and returning it.
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