Permanent Ink Poem by Kewayne Wadley

She's tattooed her many stories
Across her chest, down her arm.
To the bottom of her calf, just above
Her ankle.
To be one of the main characters
That runs out of her mouth
Springboarding from her tongue,
Bleeding out as dried ink.

Kiss her lips, before
She begins another story.
One that reveals a deeper part
Of her, a part of her the cover would
Never reveal.
Nestled tight, sitting Indian style in the middle
Of her bed.
A character she often rewrites.
A memory built in a house
Traced with needle over goose bumped
Skin. Regardless of which story
You choose to read first;
Keep in mind
the pages are fragile.
No matter how permanent the ink
May be