Tattoos

40 the minnesota review Dave Austin Tattoos She'd put a pink rose above her left breast: it seemed redundant. A tiny scarlet heart nestled below the line of her belly, pointing down like one of those arrows, "You Are Here." There was a small black web, made by an absent spider (I would look for her later) at the cleft of her buttocks. I traced its strands, mingled in her own silk with my fingertip, and asked her why she'd had them done, why she would make such permanent marks on herself: I wanted to know if it had hurt. She bit her lip, It was just something she had to try: "Besides, no one sees them, but you, now," she said. She explored my skin and found only the fine white line rising slightly between the red and blue ones at each wrist. She wanted to ask the same questions, but waited, tracing one, then the other, with her lips. She left her name there burning, where no one else can read it. ...