Drawn tattoo design of a shaded rose beside ornate script reading love me, with a line of serif text reading That's all I ask of you, on a white background.

Love me script with shaded rose design

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

A drawn design on a plain white background showing the words love me in ornate flourished script, with a smaller serif line reading That's all I ask of you beneath it. A large rose in the lower right is drawn with soft grey pencil-style shading and layered petals. The composition places the text on the left and the rose at bottom right, leaving open white space above.

Lettering Botanical Rose Script Lettering Quote Lyric

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 cage came up at ten past six with nobody in it but the banksman's dog, and you stood at the pithead gate with your shawl pulled tight, counting the men as they climbed out grey as ash. Ferris. The Pyne boys. Then Daniel, last as always, his lamp still burning though the day was already up over Dunmere Row. He lifted two fingers to you, the way he did when the overman was watching.

Keep reading

Back at the Welfare hall the wireless was spitting a dance tune, and someone had left a slate by the door with a rose chalked on it, its petals smudged in soft grey by a hand that had never been taught to draw. Daniel had found the chalk. Under the flower he had written love me in curling capitals, the way the pit ponies' names were painted over their stalls, then rubbed half of it away with his sleeve so that only the last word stayed clear. You asked him what it meant. He said it was a song, and you said you knew the song, and that was not what you had meant at all.

Later, with the lamps turned down and the rain coming sideways off the slag heaps, he told you about the seam under Hollin Wood, how the roof talks for a week before it drops. You listened the way you listened to the kettle. He was asking for very little: a door left on the latch, a hand on his back when the shift had bent him double. That's all I ask of you, he said, and laughed at himself, because it sounded like something from the picture house in Castleford.

You did not answer him that night. In the morning you took the slate outside, licked your thumb, and smudged the rose until it was only a grey cloud on the stone. Then you picked up the chalk and drew a door beside it, standing open, with a light in the window.