Indelible Ink

Henry and Harriet lived and worked

above the bar

where Henry had his tattoo parlor

and Harriet would read people’s stars

He was her addiction, she his canvas

in the flesh

He kept a clean machine, his needles

were always sterile, sharp and fresh

He drew art on her back and biceps

and on her thighs

and it sounded like a storm

in the middle of the night with her sighs

One night a female customer’s boyfriend

pulled a gun

And Henry fought when what he should have

done was take off and try to run

Henry’s blood soaked his shirt and spread out just

like a star

Harriet has Henry all over her body,

and her heart is now scarred