Colour botanical tattoo of a red rose with green leaves, red berries and small white flowers across the upper chest and shoulder.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Red rose and berry sprig on the upper chest

Botanical · Chest · Colour · Photo

A red rose with shaded petals sits at the centre of the design, flanked by a closed rose bud and a trailing sprig of red berries. Small white flowers, green leaves and thin dark outlines complete the arrangement, which curves from the chest up towards the shoulder. The tattoo is in full colour against lightly tanned skin, shot from a close, slightly angled view with a plain pale background.

Botanical Traditional Chest Shoulder Rose Rose bud Berry Leaves Flower Branch

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rose on the fourteenth floor had pushed up through a crack in the balcony tiles, and nobody on the estate could say who had planted it. Mrs Okafor's grandson said the wind had carried the seed up from the car park. Mrs Okafor said it was older than the block, and older than the road, and that roses did not care which way was up as long as there was light.

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The rose grew red and full, with a closed bud standing beside it like a child waiting to be called in. A long branch trailed over the railings, hung with berries, and white flowers opened among the leaves. Children picked the berries and were told off for it. Mr Dunmore, who walked his dog past the bins three times a day, said a rose that high was a promise somebody had made to the sky and meant to keep.

In February the lift broke and stayed broken. Nadia carried her shopping up fourteen flights and stopped on every landing to breathe. One morning a man from the council came with long shears and a clipboard, and said the plant was a hazard to the railings. Nadia stood in the doorway with her arms folded and told him the bud had not opened yet, and that it would not open for anyone who came with shears in the frost. He wrote something on his clipboard and went down the stairs slowly.

The next morning the bud had split, and one petal lay on the balcony tiles like a dropped letter. By evening a single berry had rolled loose from the trailing branch and settled against the council man's dusty boot print on the walkway below, bright as a coin.