“I learn from people” —Socrates, The Phaedrus
Of one thing I am certain:
The secret to life is the curtain.
In the blizzard of facts
You have to notice how the person acts.
Love and desire depends
On the curtain, and when love ends
With its union, the curtain’s division,
The fact between here and there broken,
Clothing comes off and we see what’s there,
Behind the curtain, pleasurable, embarrassed sighs,
The secret, delicate hair.
The allure of what’s hidden by the curtain
Drives everything that’s mysterious, and finally, certain.
In triumph, we part the curtain and walk
Into the mystery. And then we talk,
And in our talk, more curtains arise,
Curtains in the world and curtains in the eyes,
Until the couple who thought they had become one
Find their passionate, unified love is cruelly undone;
Suddenly all that was loved, is hated.
We broke the curtain. But these holy, happy ones? They waited.
