Black shaded lips with a cursive word, sketchy numbers and small red text on the upper chest near the shoulder, in a lettering and realism style.

Lips and script on upper chest and shoulder

Lettering · Shoulder · Mixed · Photo

A pair of black shaded lips sits on the upper chest, with a cursive word, loose scratchy linework and small numbers trailing towards the shoulder. The lips use soft black and grey shading with dripping ink at the bottom, while the script and stamp-like marks are in fine black lines. Small red text and a blue-grey square add colour against the pale skin, and the composition is a close crop of the upper body.

Lettering Realism Shoulder Lip Script Number Ink splatter

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dead letter office on Carlisle Street never sent anything home, so Dolores Finch had long since stopped reading the envelopes that passed through her hands. This one stopped her. Someone had pressed a mouth to the flap, red lipstick gone brown with age, then pressed again as though the first had not been enough.

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The address was written in a looping hand: Miss E. Harrow, care of the Essence Perfumery, Bold Street, Liverpool. The postmark said 1958. A blue-grey square label covered one corner, the sort the Post Office used to mark a letter as delayed, and beside it someone had written the numbers 10 and 01, as if counting days. Dolores checked the street directory during her break. The perfumery had closed before the decade was out, and the shop on Bold Street now sold carpets.

The rules were plain. Unclaimed letters were opened, read for a return address, then destroyed. She sat with the letter opener in her hand for most of her tea. Inside was a single sheet with only a few words: The lilies are still blooming on the back wall. Come on the first Tuesday, the way we planned. Yours, always, Essence. Nobody had ever written to Dolores like that.

That evening she wrote on a fresh card, Tuesday, first light, Bold Street. I'll be the one with the green umbrella. She folded it into a clean envelope, addressed it to the old perfumery, and sealed it. Then she leaned down and pressed her own mouth to the flap. The red ran a little, the way it does when you press too hard, and she left it that way before dropping it in the tray for the morning.