Small fine line script tattoo of the word love in black ink on the inner wrist of a hand with pink nails.

Love script on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of the word love written in a thin, flowing cursive script sits on the inner wrist. The linework is fine and even, with a single dark ink and no shading. The hand is raised against a blue and cream patterned rug, with stacked metal bracelets visible below the tattoo.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Love Script Word

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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

Sit down, sit down, mind the chairs, they're older than most of us. You all remember Miss Teale and her copperplate. Every morning before the register she wrote one word on the blackboard in a hand so fine you could have threaded it. The word changed from week to week, except for one, which she came back to every Friday. Love. Nobody thought much of it. We were eleven and had our minds on dinner.

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Arthur Biggs wrote like a man splitting kindling. He pressed so hard his nib snapped on the second line of his exercise book. Miss Teale didn't raise her voice. She took his pen, fitted a fresh nib, and kept him behind after the bell with a sheet of blotting paper and that one word, over and over, until his letters loosened up. 'Lightness is the whole trick,' she said. 'You're not carving it into the desk.' He went home with ink on his cuffs and a face like thunder.

She left at the end of that summer, and the last thing she did was wipe the board herself. Arthur stayed behind to carry the register down, and when he came back for his satchel the duster was lying on the windowsill, still grey with chalk. He never gave it back. It went into his tin of marbles and came out again every decade or so, and nobody here knew about it until last Friday, when he turned up with the tin under his arm.

Hold it up to the light, go on. There, in the corner. A faint grey loop, lighter than a breath, where the chalk pressed least. That's her word, that's what he learned from her. Mind the chairs on your way out.