Fine line black botanical wreath of leaves and small flowers around the script words beauty for ashes, tattooed on a forearm.

Leafy wreath with script lettering on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A circular wreath of thin leaves and small buds surrounds the handwritten script words beauty for ashes. The linework is fine and even, in solid black ink with no shading, and the design sits centrally on the inner forearm against plain pale skin. The image is a close, straight-on photograph with a soft blurred background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wire had nicked my thumb twice before Mrs Pryce came in, so I was sucking the blood off when she laid the chapel's old lintel board on our counter and asked whether Vera could make something to go around it.

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The Wesleyan chapel on Tanner Street had burned in March, a chip pan left on through a Sunday nobody had checked properly, and the congregation had carried out what they could. The board was black along one edge, but the words still showed under the soot: beauty for ashes. Vera turned it over the way she handled a bruised bloom. "Isaiah," she said. "Ivy, not lilies. Lilies are for the dead, and this lot have had enough of those."

I made the frame that evening at the bench under the bulb, bending hazel stems into a ring and wiring bay leaves to it one by one, tucking the little white bells of lily of the valley in wherever the ring thinned. It took until midnight. When I came to the middle I took a fountain pen and copied the verse onto a card, practising the joined letters until my wrist ached, and I pinned the card where the circle opened so the words sat in the bare centre like something read aloud.

On Saturday Mrs Pryce came back and stood a long time in front of it. Her husband had banked the chapel stove that night, she said, and in forty years he had never once missed a service. She touched the edge of the card and said nothing. We hung the wreath on the new door that afternoon, and the smell of cut bay drifted out into the street with the first rain, sharp and green over the old soot.

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