Crow Tattoo Poem by Minnie Gehrig

her hair is as red as burning bushes,
natural artist,
she is imprinting me,
giving me a piece of her,
faboulous and beatiful
my sister,
lips drawn tightly in concentration,
her gun vibrating in time with,
the flashes of teeth on lips as,
she births her mark,
onto my flesh,
emerging now against my shoulderblade,
a wing a beak,
a tail,
clawed toes and suddenly,
it is born,
my birthmark of poetry,
perfect lines of crow,
now waiting like me,
for the solidness, for the shading,
feathers in shadows,
embraceing,
wings spread ready for flight,
awaiting little details,
twighlight couds,
the blood moon.