Having accumulated enough visible scars, mostly from racing sailboats, motorcycles waterskiing , and other such sports, my flesh is scarred enough for conversation. I loathe tattoos. So phony! Like false advertising, but permanent. I don’t mind decorating my hands and sometimes my forearms or face, with henna on holidays at the family farm in Rajasthan, but it’s celebratory and washes off. The two teardrop tattoos near my eye I had removed due to an ordeal best forgotten. Still, I get noticed by people I’d rather not want to socialize with. Seriously, tattoos are for women, real men seek to be branded, inconspicuously, by fire.
-dp-
torn words, 
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