Cupid shoots seven arrows from her quiver.
Eons of experience, she hits where she aims.
Six hit in my heart but the seventh in my liver.
Now I can’t eat gluten and wine gives me pains.
I wonder if hearts are like cats’ lives?
I think it’s seven but it might be nine.
The thought of more arrows gives me hives.
I’ve had enough of love to last through time.
I hope it’s seven and the arrows are done
And Cupid wanders by and fails to see me.
I’ll emulate Hestia and Artemis for fun
And Artemis’s hunt stays protective from the the trees.
The love of friends is enough for me.
An empty quiver will set me free.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: quiver. The statue is Galatea, in Port Townsend.