Tattoo
I'm a sharp-teethed smurf
hissing with a twisted tongue
underneath your skin, subversive.
On Sunday I see through your clothes
while you mime the words
I know you don't mean.
At night I come alive
whispering in your ear
to take the fruit of your body.
I am your archetype, your shadow,
not striding behind or rising to meet you.
I am fear in a skinful of ink.
I am the sign of Cain
put upon you by a vengeful God
and looking for your brother's sheep.
(This was crafted after reading Tattoo This Madness In by Daniel Allen Cox)