Creativity, Tattoos

I want to know all the stories behind of your tattoos. Which one is the one you made for everyone who made you stay, which one for everyone that left.

I want to run my fingers across your skin in soft circular moves, connecting each and everyone of them with imaginary threads of gold, a twisting storyline.

Let me see that smile once more, that sparkle in them blinding eyes. Tell me all your stories, I’m all ears and going nowhere.

You’re like a book without covers, so easy to read, just soft pages. Some with a story, some waiting for their turn.

But I want to hear it in your fragile voice, tell me… Where do you stand? Where are you now? Are you okay?





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