Fading Tattoo

Love, yet again, boggles our minds. Can we ever reach it? Even just to feel it truly for one moment?

Of course I can't get rid of you--

I tattooed you on my heart.

I tried to rip it out my chest,

Stomp on it as a start,

Then meditate quietly

As my life force lit the dark--

It now pooling in an arc, I found

The taste of iron strong.

But rather, I'd sit fainting

Than to wait for fading art.

I made a castle for us

From wood chips in a park.

The wing blew it over,

Again, I started to restart.

Plucked plums of the ripest 

And threw them at shooting stars.

So you could see the trail of sweetness

From wherever in the hell you are.

Author's Note

How does the analogy work? Good? Bad?
What do you pull from this?