I have his eyes. A richness and a curse that cackles at me each time I have the misfortune of meeting the gaze of a mirror. Endless dark that calls me back to him. When I see myself, I am consumed by the depths, the memories attached to immovable orbs. The infinite holes that reside in the middle of my face draw me in, replaying the final moments of his life. We shared those seconds, our dark eyes soldering like evening embers, until one flame was dampened and then I was the only one left burning bright. I’m doomed to repetition, to keep him close and swirling within my reflection. Haunting me. Calling me back to his death. Unable to give these things away.