Two black line tattoos on wrists, a sun with closed eyes and hatched rays on one wrist and a crescent moon with a face on the other.

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Matching sun and moon wrist tattoos

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

Two wrists are shown side by side, each with a black tattoo. The left wrist has a sun with a serene face, closed eyes and a ring of hatched rays, while the right has a crescent moon with a profile face drawn in clean outline. The ink is solid black on pale skin, and the plain background keeps the focus on the two designs.

Fine line Other Sun Moon Crescent moon Face Celestial Matching tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Our mother used to say the sun and the moon had never once shared a sky on purpose, so my brother Owen and I took it as a dare. I caught the first ferry out of Porthwen at half five, and he took the last one back at eleven, and for six years the only hour we ever shared was the slack water at the top of the tide, when the harbour went flat as a dinner plate and the gulls stopped arguing.

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We kept a rule. Whoever reached the slipway first sat on the iron bollard with the flask, and the other one never said the first was early or the second was late. Owen drew the moon on the lid of a fish box with a carpenter's pencil. I drew the sun on the brown paper the chandler wrapped our rope in, the rays squared off the way the fishermen square their knots, and we swapped them so each of us carried the other's face in a coat pocket until the creases wore through.

The winter they put up the new breakwater, the tide turned at a different hour and neither of us could make it. I sat on the bollard anyway, the flask going cold, watching the moon sink behind the Scarrow light, the paper sun curled in my pocket like a sleeping cat. When Owen came down the steps in the grey before dawn, his sleeve was rolled and a small moon sat fresh on the inside of his wrist, eyes shut as if it had been listening all night.

He held his arm out beside mine. My wrist was bare, the sun still only paper. I had the needle booked for the Thursday, and I told him so. We pressed our wrists together, sun against moon, and for once neither of us had to be first.