She was eighteen years of age and tattoos were the latest rage. Snapping her bubble gum she plunks herself on a chair then asks  " May I have a tattoo please" I see a young girl in a messy ponytail and an old beaten up jacket.  I worry that she'll pick something God awful and then I'll have to oblige.  
The boldness of youth
can appear so uncouth
yet reveal so much truth
"I want a tattoo of a winter vine.  One that will not go away nor fade with time" Touching the tip of the needle to the ink it ***** up into the cartilage reservoir.
As the machine begins to “buzz” the armature bar hits the coil and I begin to work. Stretched across her upper arm I notice a discoloration of the skin, a slow petering bruise.
Eyes color of snake
she is all heartache
I take a break...
"Why did you choose a vine?" I ask,  but all I get is silence and a slow breath intake.    
As the coil tattoo gun moves up and down continuously the clicking sound feels soothing
to her ear.  " The last memory I have of my mom is of the the winery.  She told me how the
leaves shimmer with color before falling off.  How the sap sinks into the roots and the vine
falls asleep, while waiting for the next summer to appear.
the tendrils climb
this is her time
not mine
In her handbag she carries a heavy load plus some green crumpled dollar bills.  " How much do I owe you?" she asks.  I tell her shes already paid her dues " No charge. " I say.  She smiles and then she leaves, as if on cue...

I just can't be anything can I
A particle and a wave
Everything and nothing
That's a fact
Lingering in the cusp of a twilit doorway
I am nothing as I sit on the verge of everything
Can I be if I am not here nor there
Or anywhere but here
Straddling the identity of not one another, but two
For everything I find that is Whole
I begin to see only fractures of myself
Fracturing into pieces that’s what I am
Pieces of different puzzles
Smashed together into something new
Never really fitting together quite right

Carefully placed and covered with love
Patience emerged in hydration
Stretching into the dancing air
Golden warmth radiates across my face
Sinking my roots further into the foundations
Of past experience
Inching further toward the sky
Waiting to blossom into potential
An open story to share again
May the withering be slow to come
Nourishing those surrounding the performance
I can become,

                                                        ­           once again

No matter how you view it-
It's all lookings, each perspective.
You grow & you grow & you grow,
But you refuse to germinate.
Don't you know?
You must release your seedlings
If you hope for a root
To be planted.
Can't have too fragile of a barrier,
But neither too hard the shell.
Spread your wings
And do your thing,
Flaunt your laurels.