Dodging Arrows

He comes
uninvited
everytime
dragging his muddy boots
on your clean rug.
He grabs your
last soda,
plops on the sofa and
cranks up the game.

Don't let the propaganda fool you:
Cupid
is a boorish fellow,
obviously unobservant,
often mischevious.

Poets paint
it rosy but
Love
is a trying,
desperate,
inconvenient
emotion.

I
love
you
and
know
not
why.

I try
to reason
with Cupid but
he just grunts
and turns up the game,
uncaring,
as my
heart
falls flat
at your
sidelong glance.