this morning #1072.

this morning, these early-adult-era tattoos trickled down my right arm in waves, a slowly-fading assemblage of old emotions that i’d decided to memorialize over thirty years ago. once important totems. mostly past tense reminders. a heart for a departed friend. the names of men i’d once been with. a band i’d once been in. a formerly-vibrant flower now devoid of color. all of them pale in comparison to the pièce de résistance, the last piece i had done, one that arrived one particularly difficult winter in my early thirties. i could do without the rest but this one still means as much today as the day i added it to my display. to an outsider, it’s just two penguins fucking. to me, it’s so much more.