Looking back on the eye

 Those eyes that look back
Those eyes that feel judged
On a body too big for its application
In an urgency not indicative of its nature

Eyes that look back
and at the last moment look away in fear
Fear of being seen through, evaluated and ridiculed
The pain inside the eye...                                         white hot, the iris scalding, pupil eternal

Those eyes that feel the weight of the observer
That absorbs the outward energies flung like impulive reactions
Sparks that land on the membrane of the turning blind eye