Personal Metaphor

April 1, 2010
Eyelids are not something you often think about. My mom’s, always frosted with a spread of green eye shadow, advise me to do my best. She is a calm and understanding woman, always looking her best. My three brothers’ like windows shining after a fresh car wash. They haven’t been touched. Never. Never. Never. They’re tough. Masculine. Different from the others, my lunar eclipses shutter and protect my glistening green eyes. I’m independent; the one girl out of four children. I’m unique, like a green apple falling from an apple tree.

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