A Tattooist’s Canvas
written by: Kate MacDonald
@etherealtruth
I am aware I push this artist to reach beyond his limits,
to aim towards a higher level of light and fluid colour.
There is abstract beauty within the lines that follow, flow,
delineate each hollow, with the palest lilac, a blush of pink.
Each tiny puncture mark holds pigments rarer than azure skies, topaz hues.
Bands and swathes begin and end in me. This pain must have meaning,
holding vision and intent as each nip of the Liner needle alters, changes,
while the intervention of the Shaders evolves, elevates.
I am his canvas, each part of me is his to convert. He lays upon me a vista,
tempered only by the steel of his will. His truth sits well with me.
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