The overlap is the whole drawing problem
A dagger driven through an open rose has to show depth with nothing but outline — the blade drawn continuous, the flower broken exactly where the steel crosses it.

A dagger, point down, driven through an open rose — entering at the top of the bloom, emerging below it, continuous the whole way through. Three leaves sit behind the flower and two drops fall from the blade's tip.
Two objects sharing the same space is the entire drawing problem this design solves, and it solves it with nothing but outline.
What is this a picture of?
A dagger passing through an open rose, drawn in the flat outline and fill of American traditional — one object continuous, the other interrupted where the blade crosses it. The pairing sits alongside other classic backing shapes in this vocabulary, like a heart surrounded by its own radiating lines rather than run through with steel.
There's no shading, no transparency, no attempt to show the blade behind glass or the petals in front of steel. The only tool available is which shape gets broken and which one doesn't.
Why does the overlap matter so much here?
Because it's the one decision that tells the eye which object is in front.
Two shapes occupying the same space, drawn only in outline, have no way to show depth except by interrupting one of them. Here the dagger stays whole — its outline runs straight through the flower without a break — while the rose's petals stop where the blade crosses and pick up again on the other side. That single choice is what makes the blade read as passing through the bloom rather than sitting on it, and it's doing all the work a shadow or a highlight would do in a more rendered style.
What makes a good version of this?
A blade drawn as one unbroken line and a bloom drawn with clean breaks exactly where the steel crosses it — nothing softer than that reads correctly at a distance. The same flat-fill discipline the mirrored swallows elsewhere in this set rely on for a different reason is doing the work here too: no gradient anywhere to blur the crossing point.
The two drops at the tip do real work as well: small, but the detail that confirms the blade has gone all the way through rather than stopping partway. Leave them out and the composition still works; put them in and it's slightly more certain.
Who owns a design like this?
Nobody. A dagger, a rose and the trick of running one through the other belong to no single artist — it's one of the oldest pairings in this vocabulary, older than any shop currently drawing it.
A specific artist's own rendering of the pairing is what's licensable, the way any finished piece of art can be. This one was drawn fresh rather than lifted from a particular sheet, which is the usual route for a subject this established — there's no one version of it to credit.
Could the blade pass through something other than a rose?
Yes — the technique isn't specific to a flower, it applies to any two shapes that need to read as one occupying the other's space.
A heart, a scroll, a banner all get pierced or wrapped the same way in this tradition, using the same rule: whichever shape is meant to read as further away breaks at the crossing, and whichever is meant to read as nearer stays whole. The rose is the classic pairing partly because its petals give the interruption somewhere natural to happen — a leaf's straight edge doesn't hide a break nearly as well as a curved petal does.
What happens if the interruption goes the other way?
The picture changes completely — the dagger reads as resting on top of the rose instead of piercing it, which is a different and much flatter image.
Reverse which shape breaks and the composition loses its whole point: instead of one object driven through another, it becomes two overlapping shapes with the top one arbitrarily on top. Getting the interruption right is the single technical decision that makes this design what it's meant to be, rather than a much weaker one that happens to use the same two objects.
Does it print well?
Four colours: black for the outline, cream for the blade, red for the bloom, green for the leaves, all flat with hard edges and no gradient anywhere. Flat colour with a hard edge is what this whole tradition was built to survive on cloth — the breaks in the rose's outline are the one place worth checking at print size, since a break that's too narrow can close up and read as an unbroken line, which undoes the whole trick.
How do I get one made?
Describe the piece at JustOG — the two objects, and which one should stay whole. Pick a direction, drag the crop frame, see it composited on the real garment, and it's made to order and shipped.
Designs other people have published are in the shop.
One blade, unbroken. One flower, broken twice — at the entry and at the exit.