The only permanent thing in my life is the ink I put on my clients. I drift from city to city, in and out of beds, from one tattoo shop to the next. Every time I start to put down roots, I rip them up. Until New Orleans. Until her. She's everything I'm not. Full of fire and life. An innocent where I'm a sinner. I want to consume her. Protect her. Keep her. But first, I have to escape from beneath these shadows.

Compact discs.