Colour tattoo of a pink cherry blossom branch with red-tinged leaves running down the side of a torso above the hip.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cherry blossom branch on a side torso

Botanical · Ribs · Colour · Photo

A branch of pink cherry blossoms with dark brown stems and small red-tinged leaves curves diagonally from the side of the ribcage down towards the hip. The flowers are shaded with lighter and darker pinks and the branch lines are fairly bold. The tattoo is shown in colour against smooth skin, with the top of a pair of blue jeans and a navel piercing visible in the frame.

Botanical Ribs Cherry blossom Branch Pink flower Leaves Stem

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Put the kettle on, Dilys, and don't look at the guard like that, he has enough on his mind without your face. Sit down. I'll tell you how the cherry came over the river, since you've been staring at that branch painted on the customs hut wall for an hour as if it owes you money.

Keep reading

In the year the bridge at Halsey Ford was closed to carts, a clerk named Tomas Veld crossed every morning with a pass in his breast pocket and a jar inside his coat. The jar held a cutting from his mother's tree, wrapped in wet sacking. Nobody searches a clerk's coat, he said, and nobody asks a man what he is carrying when he is smiling. So for three winters he carried it east and west, and every spring the graft he'd set onto a sloe stump on the far bank put out pink, and the guards on both sides pretended not to see the blossom drifting across the water.

Then came the spring the officer with the brass buttons decided the blossom was contraband. He stood on the bridge with his ledger and ordered the tree cut down. Tomas said nothing. He only walked to the middle of the span where the current runs fastest, opened the jar, and let the petals go. They went downstream in a pink line, past both posts and past the officer's arithmetic, and by evening every bank had blossom on it.

The complaint was lodged, and it was never answered, because nobody could find a form for a flower. Tomas kept his pass. The tree still stands on the east bank, and its branch curls up the stump like something that has climbed out of a pocket. Now drink your tea, the lorry's coming, and mind the petal on your sleeve. It is only a petal, and petals have never once been illegal.