Tattoo Poem by Elena Toledo

In this autumn storm, and this loneliness,
I would tattoo your face to my body; and at
every long night, autumn leaves will fall,

reminding me to write my 'pastorals'
and the serene skies above me, will
calm my ridiculous consuming passion,

the passion that makes my path misty and
foggy; is my body so weary, that your face no
longer is visible; its faded away the tattoo

of your face. When autumn rain falls I’ll
pick my chestnut leaves thinking you are there
to help.