Thoughts in the chair
I lay on my back and look at the ceiling.
As I lie I think of something calm and mellow to pull me through.
This next appointment I have with tattoos.
They told me your body is a temple, never taint it.
It's quite the riot considering they never told me I couldn't paint it.
So, another session again here we go as the buzzing begins to show.
I hear the buzz slowly fade into the ink with haste.
I feel the jag of the needle into the my skin deep and slow, a joy someone without tattoos of which will never know.
There is a passion that burns deep not only for the artist but the creative mind that is in the seat.