Black and grey line drawing of an eye with radiating rays above, sprigs of leaves on each side and teardrops below, with the word Cancer beneath.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Eye with leaves and tears, Cancer design

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

The drawing shows a stylised open eye with lashes, a shaded iris and pupil, and a row of radiating lines above it. Sprigs of leaves curve outwards on either side, and two teardrops fall below the eye, with a short italic caption under the word Cancer. The fine pen linework is combined with soft grey stippling and hatching, and the composition is centred on a plain white background.

Fine line Eye Leaves Teardrop Ray Zodiac

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The slugs had got into the lettuces again, and Mrs Pargeter from number nine was leaning on the fence with her arms folded, pretending she hadn't been watching me since breakfast. I told her the garden was fine. It wasn't. Something had been stripping the tops off the sweet peas every night for a week, and the only trail I could find led under the water butt, where the ground stayed soft and dark even in August.

Keep reading

So on the Thursday I knelt in the wet grass with a torch and lifted the butt an inch on its brick. Underneath sat a clay pot no bigger than a teacup, lid furred with moss, and when I tipped the lid off there was a glass eye staring up at me, painted with a grey iris and a little curl of white for the shine. Beside it lay a crab's pale claw, picked clean. Someone had drawn tears below the eye in rainwater beads, and they hadn't dried. My grandfather buried odd things in this garden, and I'd always assumed they were jam jars of seed.

I put the lid back and didn't sleep. At two o'clock the moon came over the shed roof in a fan of silver, and the sweet peas lifted their heads all at once, like they'd been called. The ivy on the trellis curled outward. The eye under the butt was open, I swear it, though I'd sealed the lid. I went out in my dressing gown and set a saucer of milk beside the pot, then stood very still while the garden settled around me.

In the morning the sweet peas were tied to their canes with green string, neat as stitches. Mrs Pargeter's cat slept on the water butt, grinning like it owned the place. The saucer was empty, and the pot was closed, and the only tear left was a single drop of dew on the lid, shining like it had been crying for something it had finally got back.