The garden of Eden was really inside us

and when we sinned it moved outside.

So we clothed our outsides, embarrassed, red-faced and soft-skinned.

Pearly moonlight beathed us in skeins of silk-wven glimmer so we

could hide our glowing bodies as if they themselves

were incriminating to our vulnerability.

The garden of Eden was in love with us

we didn't clothe our feelings when it was within

for they were so beautiful.

But now we are hollow and scared

so terrified we'll be hurt by steel sunshine penetrating us.

Building armour for our insides

but can't you see?

We never needed it before

all we need is Eden's love

substituted

reconstituted

pure

to fill the holes in our bullet-torn hearts.

And there's not even room for armour

when you have all you need (is love)