Small fine line tattoo of a pink heart with the word love inside, on the inner upper arm near the elbow.

Small pink heart with love lettering

Fine line · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A small heart outlined in black sits on the inner upper arm near the elbow, with the word love written inside in thin black lettering. The heart is filled with flat pink ink, and the lines are clean and even. The plain pink wall behind the arm keeps the focus on the tattoo.

Fine line Upper arm Heart Love Lettering

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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

Dolores Finch had stamped hearts at Pennick's sweet works in Margate for nineteen years, and in all that time she had never let a bad one go in the bin. The line pressed slogans into pale pink tablets at a rate nobody could count: BE MINE, CALL ME, XOXO. Most came out clean. The ones that jammed and lost a letter she slipped into her coat pocket on the way out, past the security man who had long since stopped looking.

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By March the biscuit tin under her bed held forty-one of them, and nearly all said ove. The L in LOVE had a habit of sticking to the die, so the whole run of a Tuesday would come off reading ove, ove, ove, and she would pocket every one. Terry from the depot asked her what she meant to do with them. She said nothing, which was true. She only liked how a word looked when it had been left a little open, with room at the front for somebody else to finish it.

Ray, the night foreman, found the tin during a stocktake and held it under the strip light like evidence. He had the write-up half drafted in his head. Then he took out one of the hearts, turned it over, and found a second one in his own jacket pocket, the same faded pink, that Sadie from dispatch had pressed into his palm a fortnight before with no explanation. He had never worked out what it was meant to say.

Dolores took the tin back without a word and held out her hand for the pink one. Ray gave it to her. On the bus home he kept turning the heart over and over, thinking of the empty space where the L should have been, and how it was the only part of the sweet that was entirely up to him.