Mom’s eyes flicker in the sunlight— green one moment a deep brown the other. The color of the coffee she pours every morning, the sweet scent lingering in the air. A spoon dripping drops down the drain when she’s done stirring it. James’ eyes dance with hers, their colors eerily similar. Green as the grass buried in the seams of his soccer cleats. The color is like a pine forest, smelling of rosemary gardens and the sticky sap that drips from the bark. A log fire burning and crackling.  The smoke twirling between the branches of the trees before disappearing into the night sky.

Dad’s eyes are a light blue, the color of jeans washed too many times— the dye slowly fading. Eyes like the hottest part of a flame, the blue cone surrounded by leaping flames. My eyes are a reflection of his, nearly identical to his hue. A silver ring shadowing the edges of my iris. Silver like the moon, contrasting the midnight sky. A blue, rich like the undiscovered parts of the ocean; hidden from the sunlight and the outside world.