The No
The pain arrives first. Then, before you have finished feeling it, the no.
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The No
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The pain arrives first.
Then, before you have finished feeling it, the no.
This is wrong, this cannot stay, get me out.
It comes so fast you take it for the pain itself.
You think you are hurting.
Often you are refusing to hurt.
The refusal will not end by being defeated.
Fight it and you have only made a new refusal, wearing the costume of having stopped.
It loosens another way.
You notice the hand already reaching to fix the moment.
The reach itself, caught in the air.
Not the belief that there is nothing to fix.
Just the reaching, seen.
A reaching that is seen no longer moves on its own.