The Woman with the Tattooed Hands

I used to know this woman

Who had the most beautiful tattoos

On the top sides of both of her hands

She was forty-three years old and as far as I know

Had never yet been with a man

It's not that she wasn't attractive

She was beautiful but it was the way that she interacted

She was aggressively passive to the point

Where she would've intimidated any mitt

That ever tried to catch it

On the right hand she had a tattoo of a nude girl

She claimed it is what God resembled

But on the left she had a mirrored image of the same female

And this one she explained looked like the devil

I remember once watching her touch her own breasts

How the tattoos smiled as they stared down her stomach

As if anticipating when they'd be allowed to caress

The sweet flower that they both seemed to hunger

(Sweet flower)

Now maybe I was high but it felt so right

Heaven and Hell both take to this woman's womb

It didn't make sense how she could commence

Touching herself with me wide awake in the same room

But if I've learned anything in my years

(My years)

I learned I no longer believe in surprise

(In surprise)

But what happened next damn near stoled my tears

The tattoos came alive right in front of my eyes

They both slowly stood up and climbed off her hands

And showed me why she never took some time with a man

They climbed deep inside of this woman's garden

She closed her eyes and she gently bit her bottom lip

I stepped I left and I don't regret leaving

And I'll never forget all the things I saw that evening

A glimpse of religion a piece of coming closer

To understanding more about what intrigues me most

I didn't get turned on I just got turned

I wasn't as aroused as I was concerned

For each one of 'em I've hurt and every time I've been burned

I've got a lot to teach but even more to learn

So now I keep my eyes open hoping to take in all I can

About women taking in all she can

And for as long as I breathe I'll save receipt

In my memory for that woman with the tattooed hands

There's good and evil in each individual fire

Identifies needs and feeds our desire

As long as we keep our spirit inspired

She can bite her bottom lip all she wants

There's good and evil in each individual fire

Identifies needs and feeds our desire

As long as we keep our spirit inspired

She can bite her bottom lip all she wants

There's good and evil in each individual fire

Identifies needs and feeds our desire

As long as we keep our spirit inspired

She can bite her bottom lip all she wants

...