Inking August
Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2008 11:45 am
Pushing the scent of cigarette smoke with the point of a needle rapidly sinking into his flesh.
Ink invading his soul, clouding the numbness with its permanent stain. Scaring once virgin skin while he rests on an old dining room table.
The silence marred by the hum of a fan and buzz of his tools he crafts with.
She pauses, he cleans where she has been.
Her marks are met, more steady than at first.
As cold water rinses her next map, sitting, patiently waiting, the radio continues the noise.
Now she has her instructions of operation and poises herself to start again.
The lines of her nerves are precise and steadied.
More colour flows into his arm.
He's tired, she's gentle.
Watching from a chair, the scene is calm, never stressful.
A well lit kitchen with eight chairs, and clean counters sets the stage for a memory recorded with a papermate pen.
The hour is late, yet early to her eyes as they trace the places to be forever changed.
Cool air from the window drifts in, reminding us of the world outside. Momentarily forgotten the people not present, but somehow they never left our minds.
Ink invading his soul, clouding the numbness with its permanent stain. Scaring once virgin skin while he rests on an old dining room table.
The silence marred by the hum of a fan and buzz of his tools he crafts with.
She pauses, he cleans where she has been.
Her marks are met, more steady than at first.
As cold water rinses her next map, sitting, patiently waiting, the radio continues the noise.
Now she has her instructions of operation and poises herself to start again.
The lines of her nerves are precise and steadied.
More colour flows into his arm.
He's tired, she's gentle.
Watching from a chair, the scene is calm, never stressful.
A well lit kitchen with eight chairs, and clean counters sets the stage for a memory recorded with a papermate pen.
The hour is late, yet early to her eyes as they trace the places to be forever changed.
Cool air from the window drifts in, reminding us of the world outside. Momentarily forgotten the people not present, but somehow they never left our minds.