"Can you make it white?" he asks, hungry eyed.
I lean in, catch a whiff of lavender
in antiseptic soap rubbed into young skin.
He submits a smooth shoulder, needles growl and bite.
Blood beads and mixes with ink, leaving dermis warm and rosy.
"Give it time to heal."
Gentle with tender art.
The cream will rise, beneath a veil of ornate flesh.
A contest entry
- white by Cat.
2200 points, ended December 9, 2008, 23 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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'hungry eyed' just drew me right in. Great imagery here, and I felt my tattoo all over again. Good luck in the contest.
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i have a no tattoo rule in my house.. i've told my kids.. if you ever want to get a decent job.. no tats, no piercings...at least not where they can be seen-
so far so good.. i like the language of this
and the fact that you made it so real- nicely done- glad to find this here
no more tats..
m
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and i want to know what the tat is of
''He submits a smooth shoulder, needles growl and bite.
Blood beads and mixes with ink, leaving dermis warm and rosy.''
loved this part above... truely great images and creative thought.
thank you for this great entry into our contest
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Oh, nice visual. I am assuming this is about getting a tattoo? would have loved to have more description to read, but still enjoyed this. I love the idea of the flesh being a veil.
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