That fat little Cupid, floating on
a cloud overhead, is what’s known
as a Putto. It’s not a Cherub.
It’s a Putto.
It’s a cute little baby angle thing,
designed to appeal to the cuteness
gland in the brain going all the way back to
the 14th Century.
It makes you want to believe
that the person you love, was
somehow pre-ordained by some
all powerful God of Love to love you.
Through the use of a bow and arrows,
somehow. This person was placed in
your path to love you and be loved by
you. As long as the arrow hit the mark.
Cupid has had some pretty lousy aim
if you ask me. I think Cupid is usually
drunk. He is Post-Dionysian after all.
Or he’s just a baby that doesn’t know better.
Babies, shooting people with love arrows,
all willy-nilly, it’s a damn tragedy. How do
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