An acquaintance embraces body art
Poem by Jeffrey Calhoun •
Photo by Richard Coy Aune
 You always thought the Himalayas were rising to run you through. The ink seeps and I grimace. You knew I would think of biology, the needless puncturing of skin, the early retirement of melanin. You take a long drag of circulated smoke and go numb as a bird spreads its wings across your shoulder. |