An arrow pinched
Between delicate fingers,
Gently nocked, but aiming true,
Pulled taut against the bowstring.
It sings through the air,
Harmonious, but decisive,
And it strikes silently,
Knowing only one destination.
...And so begins Cupid's hunting season.
Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 10:08 PM UTC
An arrow pinched
Between delicate fingers,
Gently nocked, but aiming true,
Pulled taut against the bowstring.
It sings through the air,
Harmonious, but decisive,
And it strikes silently,
Knowing only one destination.
...And so begins Cupid's hunting season.
