the girl with the dragon tattoo
she wears her hair sparkling silver and tightly braided today, sits on a stool.
her back is bare and her ribs stand out like a bird cage.
this man (white hair, eyepatch, skill and poet shirt) takes ink and needle and begins to stitch a likeness on her flesh,
a likeness of black-bluish lines and symmetry and beauty,
and a mythical creature begins to take shape, black that will become blue with time against her marble white skin.
.
back bare, she sits.
the ink is smudged and her skin of marble is sore and red.
.
He comes in, blue eyes tired and red-rimmed from crying, rich dark hair unkempt, and sits on a stool.
A handful of dollars in one hand, the photograph of a dead brother clutched in the other one.
this man (white hair, eyepatch, skill and poet shirt) takes the money and the picture, pockets them both.
with cotton and gentle hands, walks up to her and disinfects the fresh tattoo (that stings like a wound, and bears the weight of a symbol)
clean, it becomes alive.
He looks at her for the first time.
.
and she waits for it all to dry what feels like a lifetime, a death and a rebirth.
.
and he sees the girl with the dragon tattoo and falls in love.