Black fine script reading Love me for who i am runs across the upper chest, with a small butterfly in the middle and a shaded butterfly on the shoulder.

Script quote and butterflies on the shoulder

Lettering · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a woman's upper back and shoulder showing a black script phrase that reads Love me for who i am, with a small butterfly sitting between the words. A larger butterfly with soft grey shading sits at the top of the shoulder, where it fades into the skin. The ink is black and grey on warm skin, and the lettering is set on a diagonal across the collarbone area.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody at the Hartfield Road reunion asked what I had been doing for twenty-two years, which suited me, because the honest answer was folding paper. Origami for a stationer's in Leeds, then for myself, shapes that opened into other shapes. Mrs Okonedo's old art room still smelled of turpentine and wet card, and the blue-glazed kiln sat in the corner like a sulking animal that had never been fed.

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Then I saw Marian Dowd by the squash table, laughing with her whole arm, and I remembered the summer she carried a shoebox of dead butterflies into assembly. She had gathered them from the buddleia behind the bins and pinned them with bent needles from her mum's sewing tin. Everybody called her Moth. She never once answered to it.

I brought two paper cups of warm wine over and asked if she still had the box. She said it had gone to her gran's house in Whitby, along with a seed packet her gran had written on, in pencil, in that looping hand of hers. The packet had a line on the back that Marian had carried around for years like a stone in her coat pocket. She said it was the only thing her gran ever told her straight out, and she had finally taken her at her word.

She didn't say the line and I didn't ask for it. Instead I took the paper butterfly I'd folded in my lap during the speeches, one I'd made from a page of the old school register, and set it on the table between our cups. The lights were already going up. Marian picked it up, turned it over, and smiled as if she had been expecting it all along.

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