Guessing the Origins of Your New Hipster Girlfriend’s Tattoos

 A woman with no face inked on her tricep—because she’ll be whoever you want her to be. A Matryoshka doll on her inner thigh—a quiet reminder of all the lovers who’ve been inside her. Watercolor scribbles trail along her ribs, echoing your attempt to turn something impulsive into something intentional, even permanent. Ironically, there’s no space for your name on her skin. She’s full of past impressions and fragmented identities—unlike me. I’ve only one mark—yours—the fox drawing you once sketched onto the space beside my heart, the only one I ever wanted to carry forever.

Koren Zailckas