More Ink.

It has to be perfect, because she is perfect, because even in the imperfections because this is perfect. Starlyn thought to himself. He stood up from the table with the blank piece of paper. For the first time since everything had started his life felt quite and understandable, like all the chaos was aligning, still there, still feeding him, but more manageable. He felt a calming in his mind, striding to the deck outside, taking his coffee with him and staring at the awakening city before him.
He cradled the cup of coffee between to hands, leaning his forearms on the railing. The creeping coldness of the morning biting into his forearms. He gave a sigh and Reached for the cigarette packet, then stopping, reaching over, scrunching the packet and dropping it over the edge of the balcony. He went back into the living room, sat down at my desk, pull out the almost dusty pens and start to draw the next tattoo.

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