I Pray To The Void

and the red moon

Some of you may have noticed I recently got my hand tattooed.

This was a strange choice to make right before meeting up with a date to fist her ass, but as I told her, “my non-dominant hand doesn’t need dexterity to fist,” so it was fine. My left fist sucked into her with aplomb, nearly up to my elbow. I felt I could keep falling, into the void of her body. I could emerge a conqueror.

As I was planning this tattoo, I knew I wanted some trinkets to decorate my fingers, some abstract imagery to tie everything together. I also wanted two words:

AGONY // ECSTASY

I get a lot of reactions to the words on my hand, since they are stacked strangely and must be read top to bottom (a nod to ee cummings, among others). One friend said “does that say ‘Eat Tacos?’” Some people have commented that it’s “very dark.”

My mother said, “is that what life is like to you?”

I say yes. I say, it says whatever you want it to say. I say, there is no ecstasy without agony, right?

I love the whole tattoo, the way it works as one piece. But I find myself gravitating over and over to one specific part of it: the man under the red moon.