Arabesque

Their matching vine tattoos - glossy green with tiny pink spiral flowers, one twisting up her left arm and one twisting down his right arm - were so beautiful together it was hard to believe that only a month later she'd tried to scour her left arm clean with bleach. Failed, and stumbled through the park after, lost and drunk and stupid and tripping over rocks in the dark, until she saw with wonder a trellis she'd never seen before, vines all up it, the exact shape and color of the design he'd chosen for them -

She held out her left arm and the vines grew towards her, flowers trembling, wrapping at first around her wrists and then up past her locked elbows and shaking shoulders, around and down her neck until they formed a perfect pattern on her body: a pale ancient statue in the moonlight.