Tattooed Enigma

She sits in front of me

A row away to the right,

Draped in those ebony locks

A vision of cherubic perfection.

She sits over hunching,

Looking from time to time,

Away from ardent page

Where she talks to herself

Through loops of tribal sketches.

Talking of overt authority

And the people’s consent,

And their leaders true

And their killer’s moves,

What spins in your mind?

I ask thee classmate,

Girl with the dragon tattoo.

For it caught my eye

First and foremost,

That snaking shape

That reared grandly

Across her left shoulder,

Swirling from under dress

In one long sinuous curve.

O’ twisting Green Dragon

Why your fierce eyes,

Is that not thine guise?

Do you spurn thy mount,

And yearn for thine skies?

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