he canvas of the human body
absorbs more than just
millions of ink drops,
paletted against bone
and the moments that can't walk away.
Before birth,
she was written
like the quill across my shoulder
that bears her name,
but she is gingerly balances
life like a hummingbird;
She is my first.
Intrigued by the beauty
a butterfly kisses the roses
and rests above her name;
She is my second.
Wisdom paints the turtle shell
bright green and creeps
near the roses where
her name waves;
She is my third.
My children gather around
Life itself,
an ankh,
laden with the beauty
that only roses can bring.
The knot of isis
wears my grandmother's name,
the tool of a queen
passed down to me
in every letter
across my left upper arm.
Shades of purple and lavender
create a dragonfly
that walks on my foot,
and a zodiac sign on my ankle.
Obscured intentionally,
"strength"
stretches across
my lower back
and remains without color,
only four stars.
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