Fine line black tattoo of a circular emblem with a crescent moon, stars and a stylised figure, placed on the upper back.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Circular moon and star emblem on upper back

Fine line · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A bare upper back, with short brown hair falling at the top of the frame, shows a single black tattoo on the left side. The design is a double ring emblem with small pointed tips at each side, enclosing a crescent moon, small stars and a stylised vertical figure. The linework is thin and even, in black ink only, against warm, softly lit skin.

Fine line Back Moon Star Circle Emblem Figure

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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

Walter Pell filed the rim of the second disc twice before he was satisfied, and by then the Saturday band was tuning up through the wall of the Corn Exchange next door. Ivy Marsh had never come back for the first one. She had sent her younger brother with a shilling and a folded note that said only keep it, so Walter had kept it, in the drawer under the bench with the spare pins and the cut-off ends of wire.

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The emblem had been her idea, or half her idea. Two rings, a pin at each side like a brooch someone had sat on. Inside the inner ring he cut a crescent moon and punched a scatter of stars with a nail and a hammer, one tap each, until his wrist ached. In the centre he set a tall thin figure she had drawn for him on the back of a bus ticket: a woman with her arms at her sides, the way she stood in the wings before the first number. "Make her look like she's waiting," Ivy had said. "Not like she's lost."

The brother came on the Monday, not Ivy. She had gone south on the Tuesday train with a man from a travelling show, her good coat over one arm and the first disc, Walter learned later, pressed into the lining of her case. The note he brought said nothing about the second one. Walter sat with the boy on the step for a long time, listening to the band run through the same waltz over and over.

When the rim was finally true, he hung the disc on the nail above the bench, where the afternoon light came sideways through the workshop window and threw the punched stars across the whitewash in small bright dots. He left it there. Nobody in Hollins Row had ever bought a thing that could do that, and he did not intend to sell it now.