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AD LIBITUM
Ceruloplasmin
H. J. Van Peenen
15 January 1993 | Volume 118 Issue 2 | Page 154
Among the handful of ocular signs given as jewels
on the day of our initiationthe opacities,
pigments, iritides, cupswe best remember
the only one we will never find, a ring.
It tells this protein's absence. Multiple choice
designed to ferret out what we know about
zinc-collectors or haptoglobin would fail us but
always these blue vowels leap from the
treasure chest of memory. Sky-granted, the name
comes like a password to our tongues whenever livers
scar or limbs leap into fits although none of us,
thinking of it in diagnosis, proves its guilt.
Despite the metaphor our sergeants teach us,
hoofbeats are never horses, and that is why
every patient we see remains a mystery,
a puzzle, exotic, exciting, as nothing is
in the day-to-day, and must have a rare disease
worthy of us who have been anointed and touched
by the serpent's tongue, and given jeweled words
to pass us freely through the temple gates.
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