Ink (The Tattooed Lady) Poem by Robert Eckstein

The tattooed lady sits behind
A sheet of one-inch tempered glass,
And she doesn't seem to mind
The looks she gets as people pass.

Forehead, nose, and palm leave oily prints
That daily must be washed away.
The glass reflects her many tints
As she sits throughout her lonely day.

And as the platform slowly turns,
Each side of her's exposed to view.
She sees a man with eye that burns,
She sees a sympathetic few.

Her lover with slow, skillful hands
Embellishes her snow-white skin.
From her navel blooms a thorny rose,
It's where he thought he should begin.

Her legs are tangled in green kelp
As on her thigh a starfish clings.
Above, with just the mind's eye's help
Are squid and other deep-sea things.

A pomegranate tree is on her back,
Lush, twining vines grow up her arms.
A flaming phoenix egg begins to crack.
Around her neck are mystic charms.

She does not look you in the eye
But sees something that is far away,
A land where grace and beauty lie,
Where for eternity she'd stay.