Not brown. Not green. A swirling stew of hazel. My eyes, my eyes a inner ring of green surrounded by a body of brown. Small and sleepy, half closed. My eyes so closed they are yawning. Squinty but still able to see. Stubby eyelashes sticking out in every direction, but so small no one can see them.

My father’s eyes are dark chocolate. A sea of black, but, he will say they’re  dark brown. So dark they hide in the shadow underneath his long dark eyelashes.

My sister, my sister’s eyes so full and flattering. When she smiles it is sweet like milk chocolate, brown, big and beautiful. Her eyes like big bugs underneath her perfectly shaped eyebrows, just below the dark black line of eyeliner and eyelashes a mile long. The enormous eyes that brings jealousy to everyone she walks past. The whispers as people are in awe of her eyes. The wishes I have that mine could be bigger.