Literary Tattoo Ideas

Send me some tattoo ideas. My birthday is next month and I'm itching for another. I want a literary quote of some sort to go on my arm. Gimme some ideas!!

Camilla Green

Camilla Green

Camilla is a dreamer

Or so they say.

 Vividly visions

Become true the next day.

She dreams of love

And helping the poor.

But those who cross her

Pay dearly for.

Such a nice girl

With the sweetest smile.

She’ll make your life hell

For acting so vile.

So always remember

Before you scheme.

The dreams and visions

Of Camilla Green.

Become true the next day.

She dreams of love

And helping the poor.

But those who cross her

Pay dearly for.

Such a nice girl

With the sweetest smile.

She’ll make your life hell

For acting so vile.

So always remember

Before you scheme.

The dreams and visions

Of Camilla Green.

A New York Fairy

A NEW YORK FAIRY

Celeste was like New York in fall. A girl with long burgundy hair the mimicked the trees in the park. Her skin the color of ivory that she hid from the sun under large hats. Her makeup sparkled with tints of jade and gold. Winged eyeliner that reminded her of Egyptian queens. She was always getting compliments. The way the sun hit her face and it seemed to glow. Her makeup impeccable. She always wore black that set off the paleness of her skin. Chanel jackets, and Manolo Blahnik heels. Large bangle bracelets that clinked when she waved for a taxi. Her studio apartment filled with books and lilies that she buys from the florist below her apartment. She lives in Manhattan where she works for a publishing company. Editing pictures for books, she drew pictures of lovers on beaches that complimented the cookie cutter stories that they were written for.

This beautiful girl, this Egyptian styled goddess was in fact not a girl at all. Walking along the streets with her stone-faced expressions, her face would soften in the comfort of her apartment. Removing layers of black, her long glistening wings stretching behind her. Speckles of silver that sparkled under her chandelier lighting, her wings flickering against the breeze of the New York air as she gazed upon the night looking for the stars that were not there.

She dreamed of a place where she did not have to hide her wings. Pretending that the colors amongst her face were layers of makeup and not the color of her skin. Was there really a place for her? She dreamt of a world with rivers the colors of sapphires. Mermaids sunbathing along the rocks with shimmering hair and glittery skin. Fairies that lived in trees, drinking nectar from tea cups as they admired the celestial sky. If she could not find this place, maybe she could bring this world to her.

Her burgundy hair hidden under a lavender wig from a Halloween party, crimson lipstick smeared on her lips...she took photos of herself. Hiding her true identity, but letting the world finally see her. Adorning gauzy dresses that matched her wings, she stood in the darkness with only lit candles that showed the beauty of this New York fairy.

Submitting her work to her favorite art galleries, Celeste became an overnight sensation. Artists from all over the world came to see this mysterious fairy girl.

To admire the realness of the pictures and to hopefully learn the secret of her pictures. Not that she would ever tell. He appeared one night as she sipped champagne and smiled sweetly at spectators who came to see her work. His hair was white blonde, his eyes dark blue. He looked uncomfortable in the crowd, as he gazed upon her. She felt a stirring in her stomach as she watched him slip out the side door. The last of her photos sold. She had let the world see her, but she felt even more alone.

“Do they know it’s you?” he asked from the darkness.

“You scared me!” she says clutching her chest. The butterflies were back.

“Do they know it’s you?” he repeated.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You wonder if you’re the only one. You dream of a place where your wings can be free.” he says. “My name is Drachen. Let me show you.”

At her apartment, they drink red wine from the handmade flask he had hidden in his jacket. It tasted exotic. Like a mixture of flowers and oranges.

“Are you ready, Celeste?’’ he asks.

“Yes”

He removes his jacket and shirt. The starkness of his skin glowing. His arms strong and muscular. Behind him, long shimmering wings the color of crimson flap, as if relieved to be free from the strain of clothes. He was beautiful. Exquisite. She removes the black turtleneck that releases her incandescent wings. Sprite, pixie, fairies. It didn’t matter anymore. She was not alone.

She would miss New York. The color of the leaves as they swayed in the breeze. The smell of bagels and cappuccinos as she walked along the crowded streets. But it did not compare to where she now lived with Drachen. A tree cottage with wooden floors and flowers peeking in through the windows. They drink rose wine from painted teacups and snack on marigold petals. He taught her to fly. Spreading her wings, feeling the warmth of the sun, skimming her feet along the water as she passes by. She was free.

Maybe it was cliché. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe there are girls all over the world hiding their wings underneath their clothes. Waiting for the one who will take them away. To take them to the place where they will dance in the breeze, their wings creating music as they flutter behind them.