Four eyes hit me with judgment and love.
Dark lashes fan the flecks of green and yellow floating in a sea of amber.
Striking out of a pool of black.
But, as they grow I forget that they were always doing this.
Waves of black and brown frame her face instead of pigtails.
Wisps of brown float across his forehead, one eye squinting.
Glaring at me.
Hit me with a pinch then a sting.
I know every crinkle in their skin, still plump, even now, at fourteen and ten.
They remind me that I’m just like them.
Not above, not below them.
We dance this dance together.
Written by Lisa Chesser