White Bones, Yearning Hearts

I never knew longing, but once I did, I was consumed by it. My body is like a drifting cloud, my heart like floating willow fluff, my breath like a silken thread. Only a wisp of lingering fragrance remains here, as I wonder where my beloved wanderer has gone. When will these symptoms come upon me? At the hour when the lamp is half dim and the moon half bright.

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