It first manifests as fondness, just a sense
My father used to call "kid gloves" - I want
What's best for her, without more recompense
Then just her happiness, which seems to haunt
My own. But this does not always expand
Into the full-fledged article; but if
I find my tongue grows weak, and feel my hand
Uncertain what to do, if I am stiff
Where I relaxed before, if I discover
That I'm impatient to do more for her,
But patient when she's late, if I will hover
To try to catch her eye, then I am sure
That I am gone. I see the symptoms now;
I'd try to stop them, but I don't know how.
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