Two matching fine line tattoos of an infinity symbol with a red heart, one on each person's inner wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching infinity and heart wrist tattoos

Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two near-identical tattoos show an infinity symbol outlined in black with a red outlined heart in the left loop. The linework is thin and even, with no visible shading, and the red heart contrasts with the black line. The close-up composition places both wrists side by side against plain skin and a dark fabric edge.

Fine line Forearm Infinity Heart Matching tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Don't look at me like that, you'll have the twine in a tangle. Hand me the red hank, the one that's been sitting by the tar barrel, it takes the dye better than the rest. Our mother cut two lengths from that same hank the spring Ruth went south, sat us both at the rope walk bench and showed us the figure-of-eight bend. You pull the loop through, then round again, and the thing has no start and no finish. She said that was either a blessing or a cheat, depending on who was holding the other end.

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Ruth tied her own loop in the back room of the Whitby chandlers while the kettle went cold. Then Mother worked a little heart in red marline into the left-hand eye of each, one stitch at a time, because she said a knot needs something to be fond of. Ruth took hers to Hull on the Tuesday train with her good boots in a cardboard box. I kept mine on the bench, pinned under a jar of sail needles, and I wasn't going to admit to anyone that I looked at it most mornings before the tar pot was lit.

The cord greyed over the years, the way cord does. Every February, a parcel came from Hull with a fresh hank inside and a note in Ruth's careless hand: Yours will be going grey by now. Mine hasn't. Tie me another. So I did, and I posted the new one back, and we went on like that for forty winters, two loops moving through the same post office in opposite directions.

The last parcel came in a box marked fragile, which made Mrs Fenwick at the counter laugh. Inside was Ruth's cord, black with tar now, the red heart worn to a pale pink smudge. Folded round it was a line in her hand: Mine's finished, I think. Yours is still the good one. I sat with the two loops across my knees for a long while, then went and found the red hank by the barrel, because somebody has to keep the knot going.