Fine line blue script tattoo reading Love on the inner wrist and forearm.

Love script on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A thin, single-line script tattoo spelling the word Love runs across the inner wrist. The linework is even and smooth, with looping swashes on the L and the final e. The ink is a single muted blue, and the photo is taken at close range against a plain skin tone background.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Love Script Word Swirl

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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

The last tent had a hole in its roof the size of a cart wheel, and still Mr Aldous Quill would not let anyone patch it. He said the stars were paying rent. By then there were nine people left to pay it: two clowns who no longer spoke to each other, an old grey horse called Mercy, and a wire-walker named Nell Prothero who had been up on the wire since she was seven.

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Nell's wire ran from the centre pole to a post at the edge of the field, one unbroken line of steel. In the autumn the men from the council came with papers, and Quill sent them away with a pot of tea and nothing else. The town had stopped coming. Nell walked the wire every evening anyway, arms out, counting the posts under her breath, and the crowd was usually one farmer leaning on a gate.

One night the wind came off the fens and tore the loose canvas clean off the poles. Nell did not run. She stepped onto the wire in the dark with a lantern tied to her belt and walked it from end to end so the farmer could see where the edge was. Where the wire looped round the centre pole she slowed, turned, and came back the long way, drawing the line over and under itself like a child learning to write its name.

In the morning the farmer came with a sack of feed and a hammer and said nothing about the canvas. Quill never spoke of that night either, but he had the wire strung between the two poles again, and he painted one word on the ticket board in letters that curled at the ends the way the wire did. The farmer's boy asked what it said. "Ask Nell," said his father. Nell only smiled and walked out along the wire, counting the posts.