Cupid’s Doll

The love god hates price negotiations.

I told Cupid I wouldn’t pay more than 5 sestertii
(Little Roman coins, his currency)
For his pink love swill,
And he said 10 or nothing,
But I hounded him till
He palmed my five and quickly slipped something in
I don’t know what.

Not wanting, my love, to risk his unknown add
I sipped the swill myself for safety’s sake,
Grimaced and turned to curse him in his stall-
Alas, my love, I’m lost - (I’m Cupid’s doll).

You’ll see tiny me on your nightstand, yes,
Admiring you with porcelain eyes
But I shouldn’t have stooped to a love swill, hon,
And my life as a doll is the price.