My Tattoo by Lisa Brandel

I lay prostrate,
as a priest receiving
vows, a sacramental
blessing at the
mercy of a droning
gun
A prick in the skin
a quickened breath
a tense moment
fluttering heart
endorphins and pain
the needle gliding
in an unbreakable
union, no vow will
erase.
The buzzing prayer,
a plane chant over
the skin summoning
angels and agony
mingle with a single
tear of joy
Sighs of relief
and stifled groans of
pleasure
The sins are
forgiven,
finding nirvana
a personal peace
as the road map
of my life,
A map of pain,
scars and memorial
awash in color
is chipped from
porcelain, destined
to stare blankly
at people
who will
never
know.

©Lisa Brandel 2012

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