the feeling of the eye, as i remember the eye. the memory this morning of the eye, my eye. or my father’s eye. or my sister who lives in california eye. two. two eyes and the lines of sun lit effect below. below the eye. where no vision is. or not out of the eye but towards the eye. towards the eye from you. or you. or stranger one. the one who wrote. but not words just something else, that i’m sorry, no no apology. with this new californian eye i refuse to say sorry, like my old british eye. the eye of delicate schooling well behaved. you know who you are. like a machine. tap tap tap your wierded words. but my eye refuses simply.