before the tattoo

And where is my body now

Muscles taut and purple against morning light

A hundred year old cloth crutched across my back

And into a nothing day the fall stays warm on the skin

While leaves dance across each other into a folded blurry sketch

Of the backyard where we lie with the barnacle mushrooms and stumps

It will change and stay the same

With the kakaka of ink dug deep.

This will remember

This will remind

This will continue growing outwards with time.