blue ink

ashamed of her tattoos
now at the age of fifty,
the butterfly
below,
the heart
on her breast,
the lightning bolt
behind her ear.
others too, decorating
her arms, vines and snakes,
a dagger on her calf,
she hides them all
as best she can
beneath her clothes,
the smock she wears
at the grocery
store,
the grey in her hair,
showing what
has become of
youth.