He gave me a new mirror, not glass and silvered mercury, but a gaze so steady, so full, it reflects a stranger— a better one, maybe. I’ve always seen the faint green and brown confusion in my hazel eyes, a color that couldn't settle, but he calls it a landscape: a bright place where the laugh that bursts out of me, quick and mischievous, sits right next to the dark, slow, gathering fire of my deepest wants. And the shape...