There is a love that hides behind illusion.
That love is good— it’s tender, it always wants
the best for the one who’s loved. That love
wouldn’t dream of tearing down the gentle nets
we’ve tied around ourselves, between ourselves,
to catch our falling. A fall like Adam took,
who was so happy while he still maintained
his innocent love of Eve, who was so happy
while she still had Adam free of Adam’s future.
It was good, God said, that simple life they lead
before they knew what life was, or could be after
much pain. Before they knew the kind of love
that’s been killed— a love that’s shown itself,
that doesn’t hide, that has kept on looking.