Faded fine line infinity symbol joined to the word love in cursive script, tattooed on a forearm.

Infinity symbol with love script

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up of a healed tattoo showing an infinity symbol drawn in thin outline, with the word love in flowing cursive script at its right-hand loop. The linework is fine and even, and the ink has faded to a pale, silvery grey against the skin. The tattoo sits centrally in the frame on plain skin with no other elements.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Infinity Love Script Infinity symbol

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

The splice had to be right first time, because the sea offered no second chances. Tomas Verity knelt on the wet deck of the Corinna Bell with the cable coiled round him like a sleeping animal, its copper core bared and bright under the lamp. Behind him the engine thrummed, and the ship rolled slow across the Bay of Biscay with two miles of iron-sheathed line already paying out into the dark.

Keep reading

His instructor at Greenock had taught him to lay the strands into a loop before anything else, so the current would run round the joint and not snag on it. Tomas made the first loop, then a second, crossed them over, and found himself looking at a figure eight drawn in wire and tar. He sat back on his heels, and Mrs Hale, the telegraph clerk, came up the companionway with a cup of tea going cold in both hands.

She studied the splice for a long while. "You've made the sign for forever," she said. "Lord help the Admiralty if it goes down looking like that."

"It won't go down. It's sound."

"I know it is. I was only saying." She set the tea on a coil of rope, took a pencil from behind her ear, and on the back of a spent telegram form wrote a single word in a looping hand. Then she pushed the paper across to him. Love. She had written it along the right-hand curve of his sketch, so the letters ran where the second loop had been.

He wrapped the joint in gutta-percha that night by the galley lamp. At dawn the test signal went down to Lisbon and came back crisp, the needle on the gauge holding steady. Tomas watched the line run out over the rail and sink, one more figure eight beneath the swell, and kept the scrap of paper in his breast pocket where the damp could not reach it.