Tattoo

At once a devout monk, and now
in profile view,
a man, a waterfall, a barren desert with a lone cactus
standing against a sunburst
which stretches and morphs into
an omnipotent eye.

Further along, across the elbow and into the forearm,
black and red swirls shift upwards, into smoke
dancing in the lights of pink and blue.
Dancing to the rhythm of his guitar, swaying
near the ceiling, to his sweet serenade.

My feet on concrete ground, the atmosphere envelops me.
Our hands touch, but I don't think of you.
I am transported to a past time, where another
stood beside me, and different music played in the air.