4th Day - Perfect Match

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Photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash

You don’t need to be a surgeon to see that the first line’s not straight.

The guy with the needle whistles when I stand up. He calls me gringa, laughing at my fear of pain. João calls me puppy, and smiles his charming smile. He says I promised, and I say this tattoo is important, it must be spotless. No perfection, no matching tattoo.

They laugh again, saying life’s not perfect, not in Brazil; but that’s my new life and it can’t begin with a mistake.

Please, I say, if all I’ve left is an illusion, let it be perfect.