There’s a lock

there’s a

key.

Ain’t no-one

who’s got a 

hold on me.

Tattoos.

Visible reflections

of a life

lived.

Sometimes

in earnest,

and other times

in sadness…

O blue bird of

happiness.

Other times in 

defiance.

Daggers cut 

deeper than

any human betrayal could.

Occasionally for

the betterment

of self and soul:

om mani padme hum.

Oftentimes as

an ode

to

self-love:

roses are red,

after all.

And crows

are black,

beautiful, mysterious

and 

able to transform

the being

it is placed upon.

So in closing,

do remember,

Dear Reader:

your body

is 

a temple…

may it be

your pleasure

to

decorate it.

~Lu