National Poetry Month: Tatouage

I hadn’t mentioned it, but my Bram Stoker Award-nominated collection, At Louche Ends, is also available on audio book at Google Play,, and ScribD. You can hear me read most of these poems, including this one. (Photo by Lucas Lenzi.)


Ink threads its way
between the layers of skin
the way words for you
weave between
my sinew, blood, and bone.
Ink that never dries
but saturates me with unfading desire.
Women do not give art freely
to men without
love staining their fingers.
Ritual scars,
bloodied needles,
bliss that cuts until
I am numb from your blade.
I will never again
feel your sting.
And, yet, without your sting,
I find I am still in pain.

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