My typing hands do not look like my own.
Over my pale skin faded henna tattoos bring out my freckles.
On the left hand a vine extends from the tip of my pointer
finger to my wrist. The curves and lines
remind me of the art deco metal work I saw in Paris.
On my right hand an eye gazes back at me. The stare is
surrounded by dozens of curly lashes that extend around the eye like a diamond.
Said to “mirror back the evil eye” this design reminds me of the amulets sold
in Aruba markets.
My first Mehndi gave me a feast for my eyes and my mind.
