Tattoo by Amber Decker
I flame even now remembering the messy way
I fell open to your fingers,
like the needle of a tattoo gun
you left your trail of invisible ink
just below the surface of achy skin,
your attention to detail so precise
you brought me to tears again and again.
I never dreamed you would claim
so permanent a place, plant the memory of yourself
so firmly, thickly inside the layers of me, compose
a treasure map, such a long poem
recording the lazy hours spent doing nothing
but writhing in your lap
under your artist hands, so full of patience,
you drew every last drop of blood
to my surface, the parts of me I hide
from view beneath long patterned sweaters
and faded jeans,
the parts of me I strip bare
in the willowy arms of the lamplight
in my bedroom each night, reading it over
and over again
like a favorite fairytale, tracing
the story of exactly where you’ve been.
