Cupid
It is amusing to think of myself as the victimOf some little creature with wings, fat as a baby
And not wearing clothes, whirring up on my blind
Side to shoot with his bow, his arrow at once
Plunging me into love, and, in truth, I've no
Alternate way to explain how I suddenly
Can't see myself without you. Oh, you've
Always been beautiful. This we both know,
But what poison (in whom?) pared your
Surface away to show me the angelic
Person inside? What barbed projectile
Could pass through us both, thwarting
All efforts to pry us apart? The little guy's
Gone off to fire at others, aware that he
Needn't stay here anymore. He has
Succeeded, with arrow or arrows,
In drawing us both into love.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 51 times
Written on 2017-12-06 at 13:44
| Texts |
![]() by Lawrence Beck Latest textsIllFor Isabelle Unsightly Not the Man He Was The Minutes Crawl Past |
