This doesn’t need a story. This simply is.
This experience, this pleasure, this itch, this pain,
this pulsing, this intimate happening.
Sometimes this is comfortable, sometimes this is unbearable.
This is as it is. This is without reference.
This comes always first. This is before a thought.
This is not personal.
This is the heart of not knowing.
© Ferdie Westen, 2016