Like a tattoo, you are painted, printed,
On my body, all over my soul;
Like a dream, your memory remains
Inside of me, inside my skin.
My delicate soul is soaked with you:
The memory of you... is like my tattoo.
Body art is the recognition of the fact
That I belong to you,
That I am owned by you,
Forever stamped by you . . .
Like a song echoing through the valleys of my aching heart,
You are presented in me,
An angelic chorus in me,
A precious operetta in me;
Your magnum opus is what I am, you see,
A magic melody,
A helpless harmony,
An innocent tragedy--
But I am whole.
Your stamp, forever marked on my helpless skin;
My tattoo,
I am forever burning within, the
Hot scent of you, throughout my being.
My tattoo,
I love the persuasive spell of you,
The haunting passion of you,
The ferocious majesty of you . . .
My romantic melody,
I adore the thrill of you,
The stunning feel of you,
The irresistible touch of you--
And Oh! My darling, sweet tattoo,
Remember that I am yours,
For the gentle passion of the hours,
The exquisite dreams of lovers . . .
My darling angel of light,
You give me peace through hard times,
You fill me with the breath of Spring
All fresh and sweet with tender feeling.
My lovely, breathless tattoo,
I forever belong to you;
I willingly long for you,
You are my forbidden taboo . . .
For upon my hungry skin
Are you
Eternally tattooed.
Fri Feb 15, 2013 11:45 pm by 
