Tattoo of the Week: Spider Mum…

Tattoo by James Delzel…

Tattoo of the Week: Dragon…

Tattoo by Tres Denk.

Closed Saturday…

Tattoos of the Week: Husband & Wife BFFs…

Tattoos by Justin Call.

Tattoo of the Week: All About Maryland…

Tattoo by Tres Denk.

Skindustry 2022

Call the shop 302-436-5581 to book your appointment with James Delzel or Justin Call. Or email what you want to info@independenttattoo.com

Tattoo of the Week: Backpiece in Progress…

Tattoo by James Delzel.

Tattoo of the Week: Mermaid…

Tattoo by James Delzel.

Tattoo of the Week: Giant Squid…

Tattoo by James Delzel.

This painting could be your Tattoo of the Week,

Painting by Justin Call.

Tattoo of the Week: Mermaid…

Mermaid by James Delzel.

Tattoo of the Week: Battle Armour…

Tattoo by James Delzel.

Tattoo of the Week: Memorial for a friend…

Tattoo of the Week: Memorial for a friend…

Tattoo of the Week by Justin Call.

Tattoo of the Week: Delicate Flowers…

Tattoo by James Delzel.

Tattoos of the Week: Mother & Son Stingrays...

Tattoos by Justin Call.

Never Forget...

"The Names," for the victims of September 11th and their survivors.

Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.

A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,

And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,

I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,

Then Baxter and Calabro,

Davis and Eberling, names falling into place

As droplets fell through the dark.

Names printed on the ceiling of the night.

Names slipping around a watery bend.

Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.

In the morning, I walked out barefoot

Among thousands of flowers

Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,

And each had a name —

Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal

Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.

Names written in the air

And stitched into the cloth of the day.

A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.

Monogram on a torn shirt,

I see you spelled out on storefront windows

And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.

I say the syllables as I turn a corner —

Kelly and Lee,

Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.

When I peer into the woods,

I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden

As in a puzzle concocted for children.

Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,

Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,

Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.

Names written in the pale sky.

Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.

Names silent in stone

Or cried out behind a door.

Names blown over the earth and out to sea.

In the evening — weakening light, the last swallows.

A boy on a lake lifts his oars.

A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,

And the names are outlined on the rose clouds —

Vanacore and Wallace,

(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)

Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.

Names etched on the head of a pin.

One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.

A blue name needled into the skin.

Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,

The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.

Alphabet of names in a green field.

Names in the small tracks of birds.

Names lifted from a hat

Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.

Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.

So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart.

-Billy Collins, Poet