Fine line botanical tattoo of a small sprig of purple flowers with a green leaf on the upper chest near the collarbone.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small purple flower sprig on upper chest

Fine line · Chest · Colour · Photo

A small sprig of purple flowers on a thin green stem with a single leaf, shown on the upper chest near the collarbone. The linework is fine and the petals are softly shaded in purple, with green used for the stem and leaf. The tattoo sits alone against plain skin, with a little red hair and a blurred background object at the top of the frame.

Fine line Botanical Chest Flower Sprig Stem Leaf

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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 village hall smelled of squash and floor polish, and Denise Harkin had found me before I'd got my coat off. She still held her cup the way she had in Year Nine, two fingers hooked through the handle as if it might get away.

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We had not spoken since the summer we were fifteen, when someone cut the wire on the back field and Denise took the blame. She never told on the Hendry girls, and I let her carry it. 'You still have it?' she asked. I didn't need to ask what. In Mrs Ashby's botany lesson we had each pressed a sprig of forget-me-nots between the pages of a school dictionary, under a word neither of us could now remember.

I had kept mine in a shoebox for years, the blue faded to the colour of weak tea. I said so. She laughed, then stopped, and said hers had crumbled to nothing in the crease of the page. We stood there while a man from the rugby club tapped the microphone and asked for quiet.

Afterwards I walked her to the car park. I took the shoebox from my bag, the one I'd carried all evening without knowing why, and opened it on the bonnet of her hatchback. The sprig was thin as a hair, but it held together. She didn't touch it. 'Keep it,' she said. 'It's yours.' 'It was always both of ours,' I said, and we left it there in the cold light until the wind lifted it from the paper and carried it off across the tarmac.