That’s when I see it. Ink. My heart stops. I can’t tell if it’s coming from his chest or his shoulder, but there’s a tattoo creeping out of his collar. A new one. It’s barely a glimpse before I have to look away. My mind is running a mile a minute as Jackie says something to him. It hurts to know that there’s a tattoo I can’t look at or touch. That I can never ask which extinct flower lives on his skin.
