Two matching black and grey full moon tattoos in a realistic shaded style on the forearms of two people whose arms are crossed.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching full moon tattoos on forearms

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two people's forearms are crossed over each other, each showing a full moon tattoo. The moons are drawn with soft grey shading and dark pockmarks that suggest craters, with a light highlight on the lower edge. Both are set against bare skin, with a woven bracelet on one wrist and a shoulder of a light scarf visible at the top of the frame.

Realism Forearm Moon Full moon Crater

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The tide had already swallowed the causeway when Nell Harrow saw the lantern go up on the far bank, and she knew her brother had lit it early again, the way he always did when he was frightened for her. She shoved the flat punt off the mud with her good oar and let the moon do the rest of the seeing. It hung full and grey over the marsh, pitted all over like a stone that had been struck a thousand times and never once broken.

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Gran used to say the moon was a stone that had forgotten its shape. Every pit on its face, she claimed, was a spot where someone had once tried to hold the light and failed. Tom had believed every word of it. Nell had only believed the parts she could steer by. Her pole sucked into the silt and came up trailing black threads, and halfway across the lantern on the bank guttered out, leaving only the moon, and she could not tell which of its marks was the one he had meant.

So she counted them the way Gran had taught them both as children, one pit, two pits, three, working her way down the grey face until the reeds thinned and she heard boots on shingle. Tom stood at the water's edge with the lantern in one hand and his sleeve shoved up past the elbow. Under the lamp she could see the moon he had inked there the summer they turned eighteen, the same moon that sat on her own forearm under the sleeve of her coat.

"You're late," he said.

"The tide's late. I'm exactly on time."

He laughed, took the rope, and made it fast to the post. Behind them the real moon kept its pits, and for once neither of them had to count them.