A Painter of Skin

The art of tattooing told in a poem.

A Painter of Skin.


The needle brings colour where once was flesh.
The artist's commission is bloody and fresh. He sits patiently and sees it unfold.

Blue, red, green and yellow. Bursting and bold.

A tear makes its way down from his eye.

He takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.

It isn't the pain that is making him weep. It is the memory of her that he wants to keep.

The portrait is done.
She's alive and well.
Only on his skin will she continue to dwell.