Two black ink script lettering tattoos on the upper back and shoulder, reading Together forever never apart and Maybe in distance but never in followed by a small heart.

Script quote tattoos on shoulder and upper back

Lettering · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

The top photo shows the words Together forever never apart in flowing cursive script across the upper back, with the last two words set higher and to the right. The bottom photo shows Maybe in distance but never in across the shoulder, ending with a small outlined heart shape. Both tattoos are in black ink with soft grey shading, and the photos are close crops of skin with no other detail visible.

Lettering Shoulder Back Script Quote Heart

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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

Lucius to his dear Verecunda, greetings. The ink is thin because the frost has stiffened the reed, so forgive the blots. The wagon from Eboracum came up the road yesterday with the grain, and the carter swore he had your letter folded inside his cloak, though it seemed more likely the cloak had been folded around his own wine.

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Your letter says you have been scratching the days into the wall beside the bakehouse door. Stop that and keep your tally on a wooden tablet as I do, a small notch each time the sun clears the Tyne. The centurion says the turf wall will hold through the winter, and the men here have made a game of how many leagues lie between us. I tell them the distance is only a thing the surveyors measure. They cannot measure the other part, and neither can the wine merchants.

I have commissioned a ring of bronze from the smith by the north gate, though he is a grumbling man and may take the rest of the summer over it. It will come with the next supply train. Look inside the band when it reaches you. I have had him cut a heart there, small and lopsided, the same shape I pressed into the corner of the first tablet I ever sent you, before either of us knew how long the roads could be.

Do not let your mother tell you I have grown sentimental out here. The wind has simply got into my eyes. Write again before the thaw, and tell me whether the baker has finally mended his oven. The bread here tastes of smoke and regret.

Farewell, my heart, though the road is long, I have never once gone further from you than the tablet in my satchel.