Fine line black tattoo of four looped hearts forming a clover on the inner forearm, beside a thin gold bangle.

Small heart clover on inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo is a small clover-like motif made of four looped heart shapes joined at a central cross, drawn in thin black linework. It sits on the inner forearm of a bare arm wearing a thin gold bangle, with a bright floral skirt and a multicoloured top visible at the edge of the frame. The ink is solid black with no shading, and the close, centred composition keeps the tattoo as the clear focus.

Fine line Forearm Heart Clover Outline

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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

The lift in Harrow Court has been broken since Tuesday, so you climb the eleven flights with a seed tin under one arm and a carrier bag knocking against your knee. Mrs Adeyemi on the ninth floor said the clover would only take if it had sun, and the only sun in the block comes in sideways through the stairwell window at half past four, which is when you reach the landing and stop to catch your breath.

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Her balcony smells of wet soil and bleach. Pots line the rail, mismatched biscuit tins with holes punched in their bottoms, and in each one grows a clover that isn't quite a clover. Its leaves are four small loops pinched together at the middle, as if someone tied them off with a single stitch. "Hearts," she says, not looking up from the watering can. "My husband drew them on the back of a gas bill in 1968. Said they were the only plant that didn't need asking twice."

You kneel and press the seeds into the compost with your thumb, the way she showed you. Below, a van reverses, a dog barks twice, and somebody's radio plays a song you half know. The whole estate is a grid of lit windows and washing lines, and you realise you have never once looked down on the roofs of the houses behind it.

When you stand, she has already gone inside. Soil dries in pale rings on the rim of the tin. On the rail, one loop has opened overnight into a fifth leaf, pointed like a fish, and you decide not to mention it, because she would only say it had been waiting for someone to come up the stairs.