I was born with an eclipse in my eye.
The doctor said it was a birth mark
whilst my optician calls it a cataract.
But for years my dad kept the name
of my eclipse in his pocket
as if he was almost proud of it.
Proud the way my blue iris
swirls like a ‘b’ into my pupil;
an act of defiance and difference,
as if he always knew
I would be like this.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019