Art Over Art
Updated: Dec 1, 2022
She is covered
in tattoos,
and the way she moves
is mesmerizing.
Her tits are out
and I try not to stare at them,
but my eyes wander,
and I stroke my beard,
as if I am pondering some profound thought–
like I am some great writer,
when really,
I am just young and horny.
Her hair is dyed red and black,
and she has a lot of makeup on her face;
they pair nicely
with her shy smile.
You can just barely
tell how pale her skin is
underneath all of the ink.
It’s almost as white as a blank canvas…
She has art on her body,
but her body,
like a lot of female bodies,
is also art.
Art over art
It’s a weird concept…
Imagine if I drew a picture
over-top of this poem,
and you could see a little of this
through a lot ink.
Although ...
The female body
is much more beautiful
then this,
that’s for sure.
I suppose it wouldn’t quite be the same.
But still…
Art over Art
Maybe I will do it.
Maybe it’ll trend.
Maybe it already is a trend,
and I am behind the times.
That seems likely…
And this desperate piece of writing,
from inside this bar,
is hardly art,
in comparison to her.
Her tattoos express much more
then this does.
I guess that’s the point
of
art over art.
-C.H.