My family perceives life through beautiful circles of color, our eyes.
My eyes, are the color of wet dirt. Brown with hints of darker brown within. Rough and gritty with smooth texture woven throughout. Kaila, My sister, has eyes like sun kissed leaves towards the end of the summer. The twits to gold, copper and heated ivory olives with a harsh, dark demeanor. Her eyes are brutally honest with the best intentions. 
My father eyes, dark like the remains of a fire, exhausted, extinguished, empathetic. like milk chocolate, with one blue sprinket that represents the glory days he doesn't want to let go of. Finally my mother, eyes like Christmas morning...cold and frostbitten, but there is a familiar rush of joy, like an iced over pond that has been lightly skated on by a golden fairy, a golden fairy that left dust behind. Crisp and refreshing like a cool drink of water on a hot day but frigid and rigid like shattered ice.