Eight

Eros’ quill of arrows through my soul.

A feeling that can never be defined.

As lustful as a story ever told.

Of creatures, gods and people... and their lies.


I’m not surprised it took a couple blows.

My heart has always hardened at first sight

But when I saw your face I swear it froze.

And arrows from a cherub got me right.


It built, in me, a welling of desire.

A wanting and a yearning for your all.

You, nude, in all your beauty and your fire.

That burns for me and no one else at all.


And Cupid said we’d love forever more.

A lie he’s likely told a time before.


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