brain tattoo

i was daydreaming.

i was...on a bed, with a woman. i was laying down half-asleep. she was awake, sitting up in the bed. i was naked, but covered by the white bedsheets. she was loosely holding them over her bare breast. she leaned over a bit to inspect a tattoo on my back. and then she let her finger glide over another tattoo on my arm. she climbed closer to my body and removed the cover. she brought her head close to my my shoulder-blade as she attempted to read what i had inked across my neck. softly, but not in a whisper, she said, "what does this one mean?" i wasn't sure whether or not she was speaking to herself, or if she knew i was awake, though, i suppose it doesn't really matter. i didn't answer. and as she continued to examine my bare body, and analyze my inked flesh, my daydream started to end. the scene of us on that bed, in the covers, started to move further from my minds eye. myself still laying there, her still going over the images that intrigued her so.

coming out of the daydream however, i realized that i had tattoos. i had no art etched into my torso, no quotes or figures inked into back, stomach, or chest. i have nothing so much as a piercing, or a crazy birthmark. so, what is there to pick apart? when lying there in bed, and she leans over to learn me in my sleep, or to analyze what is significant in my life, or to grasp what it is i give a damn about...what is there? what do i have to show her?

so...i tatted my brain. and if she wants to learn me in the middle of the night, she's gonna have to pick that. because in truth, that's all i have. no one will be able to tell what i'm about, or where i'm from, or what i would die for, or what it is i live for, without picking apart my brain. analyze what is etched there. inspect the ink in the middle of my cerebellum. evaluate my thoughts as they are portrayed through my actions.

is all i'm saying.