Love Songs Now, lying totally fucked in the damp wreckage of her bed, her half-shaven head on my hairless boy-chest, I can see the tattoos all over her body. Not ink tattoos like the world famous adornments to the backs of Yakuza hard men, but flesh tattoos; designs raised from the substrata of veins and follicles. Drawn through epidermic impulse into pictorial realisation.