memoirs_still in my hideaway, ghostly dreams

my eX sat up from where he was laying
on an old mattress
next to a big over-stuffed backpack
in the middle of the floor
in a cement walled room
adorned only by a small high window
with burglar bars on it.
he looked weary
as tho he’d been physically, and mentally, traveling
a rough, long, hard, and dusty journey.
he had on a dread-lock type hair covering wig
which slipped off to reveal tinfoil on his head
when he looked up at me.
his bare torso and arms were covered with interesting black ink tattoos
in a hieroglyphic and iconic style,
with a few words in various languages,
vague names, and a few dates interspersed
between maori & african & celtic motifs.
the body art started low on his waist,
wrapping & snaking up & around his chest and back
then splitting and traveling down each of his arms.
he revealed it was “his story”
and mumbled that the tattooing & the story were not finished ~ yet.
[please read more of this short faery-tale]

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