The Hellenistic poet Moschus of Syracuse has Aphrodite describe her son as follows (here in the translation by Andrew Lang):
The body of Love is naked, but well is his spirit hidden, and winged like a bird he flits and descends, now here, now there, upon men and women, and nestles in their inmost hearts. He hath a little bow, and an arrow always on the string, tiny is the shaft, but it carries as high as heaven. A golden quiver on his back he bears, and within it his bitter arrows, wherewith full many a time he wounds even me. Cruel are all these instruments of his, but more cruel by far the little torch, his very own, wherewith he lights up the sun himself.
I made haste to escape from Love; but he, lighting a little torch from the ashes, found me in hiding. He bent not his bow, but the tips of his thumb and finger, and breaking off a pinch of fire secretly threw it at me. And from thence the flames rose about me on all sides. O Phanion, little light that set ablaze in my heart a great fire.More straightforwardly, torches were naturally also there to light the way, and were associated with feasting and revelry. Flushed with wine and still wearing the wreaths they had worn at dinner, young men might go in a rowdy torch-lit procession (kōmos) to the house of a mistress (or of a beautiful boy) to serenade or otherwise disturb the object of their passion. Torches were an essential part of wedding festivities, too: Dioscorides, a poet of the late third century B.C., has “Hymen, God of Weddings, holding his bright torch”. Eros was often linked with the Dionysiac (for obvious reasons). Anacreon (sixth century B.C.) offers a prayer to Dionysus, who plays with “Love the subduer… and radiant Aphrodite”, and Meleager addresses the god of wine: “Lead on, begin the revel; thou art a god; govern a mortal heart. Born in the flame, thou lovest the flame love hath, and again leadest me, thy suppliant, in bonds.”
Eros on these coins is on his way somewhere, and with business of his mother’s to take care of.