Two mirrored black geometric tattoos of radiating triangular spikes curve across a person's forearms, with the face hidden behind the hands, in a blackwork style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mirrored geometric spike forearms

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A person holds both forearms up to the face, showing a mirrored pair of tattoos made of sharp triangular spikes arranged in a semicircular, sunburst-like pattern. The spikes are outlined in fine black lines, with solid black fills in alternating segments, and the tattoos are in black ink with grey skin tones. The plain white t-shirt and patterned wallpaper behind the arms keep the focus on the forearms.

Geometric Blackwork Forearm Spike Triangle Sunburst Geometric shape

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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 closer, you lot, and mind the draught from the door, because Brother Anselm never once in forty years let a story go cold. The abbey at Haldermere had a rose window that the old masons said was the sun itself cut into stone, every spike pointing outward like the rays of a noon. When the glazier Wulfric died with the last panel half leaded, the prior gave the work to two novices who had never held a soldering iron in their lives. Their names were Osric and Tam, and they were twins in all but blood.

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They worked in the cold chapter house through a winter so hard the ink froze in the pot. Each morning they drew the triangles on lime-washed boards, one spike after another, and each evening they measured each other's work against the wall. Tam drew left to right. Osric drew right to left. By Candlemas the two halves faced each other across the nave like a pair of hands raised in prayer, and neither would say which one was the true one.

The prior came with a lantern to settle it. He held the left board to the light, then the right, and found the spikes matched to a hair, every shadow falling where the other's fell. He sent the boys to bed without a word. In the morning the glass was set, and when the sun rose over the eastern hills it struck both halves at once, throwing a double sunburst across the floor that the monks still call the handshake.