I want bones.
Bones, butterflies and pin-ups
all across my naked skin.

Decorate me obscene and elegant.
A juxtaposition of sacred and profane
beauty.
But far less cliche.

Tattoo me bloody lacerations
across my knees and elbows.
Then patch me up with
DayGlo ink band aids.

Turn me into a masterpiece.
Butterflies along my scalp,
some alive, some dead and broken,
glittering wings on the soles of my feet.
Wings crushed into my soul.

I want a tattoo.