my father won’t talk about the numbers
3-7-8-2-5 between the wrist and elbow
blue as blood on his left forearm
instead, he spreads himself over me
spilling his protection, like acid, until it burns
i wear him like a cloak, sweat under the weightthere were stories in the lines on his face
the nervous blue flash in his eyes
his bone-crushing hugs
i am drowning in his silence
trying to stay afloat on curiosity
questions choke me and i swallow hardwe don’t breathe the same air
speak the same language
live in the same universe
we are continents, worlds apart
i am sorry my life has remained unscathed
his scars still bleed, his bruises don’t fadeif i could trade places with him
i would pad the rest of his days
wrap him in gauze and velvet
absorb the shocks and treat his wounds
i would scrub the numbers from his flesh
extinguish the fire and give him back his life

analyze the way in which “tattoo” by gregg shapiro is related to the issues of a historical time period.