11 April 2007
the pictures painted on him
When I was a kid, you could not have told me that I would marry a man with a tattoo.
In the 1970s, tattoos only appeared on the body parts of sailors and hoodlums, bikers and rapscallions. Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront — he was the tattoo type. No way. Stay away.
But we have all grown up. I certainly have. And on the first night we spent together, seeing this tattoo of his was the clinching moment. I already felt myself falling in love with him. But when I saw John Lennon on his arm, I surrendered. He was my love. He still is.
He didn't know I took this. He was sleeping sweetly after I rose to make us coffee. In the mornings, nothing makes me happier than turning toward him in our sleepy state and seeing his face for the first time that day. He always smiles when he sees mine. But sometimes, I love kissing his forehead, and climbing over in the bed, and going into the kitchen for a little time alone. Mostly because, when I come back, I see this.