it was what she wanted

this girl she wanted an astronaut tattoo she said I don’t want to stain my skin with something that says anything about me don’t want to be vulnerable had it with that she looked so damn good so long-legged, flat-bellied goddamn good with really, really clean, petite, good looking feet and her face of course was good like all their faces have to be with eyes that make you look for your dead dog’s dreams behind your broken-down sofa and she said to me I want a tattoo that is more just a representation of what tattoos used to be and I didn’t know what she meant so she elaborated she said a tattoo that’s like taking your fishnets off after getting back home on the eve of your deflowerment yet does nothing to convey in the least any of the sentiments of that and I still didn’t know what she meant but her lips her lips her lips were like a sacrament and she said tattoos are like dead omens anymore don’t you think? they’ve really lost their luster now, anymore all caught up in competition like everything else and so much of people’s identities wrapped up in a community and you knew it was all over once they started to refer to it as “ink” and even the young prostitutes were no longer ashamed of big coiled snakes running right up their back and she just looked so damn good with her light red hair that was somehow dying to be pink and her skin as flawless as her reasoning could never be and isn’t that always the tragedy? and she said I just want a tattoo that doesn’t in any way refer back to me I just want a badly rendered astronaut or a lobster maybe