In the days before Cupid fell in love, he wore a loincloth. As he gazed on Psyche’s voluptuous form as she slept, he couldn’t escape a creeping embarrassment for his bare chest and quivering wings.
One moonless night, he found that he had fallen in love. As soon as the thought struck him, he knew it was true, and whispered it into her ear. She turned, and before he could react, she saw him. For an instant he felt pure and pulled the loincloth off.
Later that night he became angry and told Psyche never to search for him again.
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