So she keeps having this tattoo dream, where we go to a bar and my tattoo guy Jeff is the bartender. We talk to him about getting tattoos, and he says come on up. We are going up to his tattoo parlor. So the three of us go upstairs. Erin is nervous, as anyone getting a tattoo usually is, I have lots and still get nervous everytime I get one. Is it going to hurt, or is it going to put me to sleep? So Erin lays down on her stomach, and I straddle her hips and give her a lower back massage, to take her attention away from the tattoo. Before she knows it, the tattoo is all done. She asks will I be getting one. My reply is simple "I already got one" I remove my shirt, and stand next to her. Our tattoo's tell a story, going from me to her, It begins on my back and ends on hers. It is the story we can't seem to tell in words. It is beautiful, beyond words. It is flowers and pain, and love and dismay. It is what we are to each other. She is my sister, maybe not blood, but she is fantastic. So in real life Erin is now working on this tattoo and when we have the funds and I have the balls we will get it done. In words I can not express what Erin means to me, In art maybe I can. Maybe when we are old and grey and hanging out together will we still laugh and love this tattoo that brought us a little bit closer together. Or when we move far away from each other, I can look at it and think of her and call her and tell her how much I've missed her. She is in my blood, she is in my heart, she is in my soul.
