The middle of the middle,
day becomes the morrow.
Alone on the balcony.
Air forms my companion and has as much substance as one.
Hot.
Humid.
Dry lightning flashes in the distance.
(over the mountains)
Silent.
A world apart.
(come apart)
Wide awake with tired heaviness.
Quiet lightning at the dividing point.
One separating out into two,
and though it doesn't seem possible,
sleep comes.
The violence of the storm slips behind the front ridge.
...beneath our surface.
kuebiko n. a state of exhaustion inspired by an act of senseless violence, which forces you to revise your image of what can happen in this world—mending the fences of your expectations, weeding out invasive truths, cultivating the perennial good that’s buried under the surface—before propping yourself up in the middle of it like an old scarecrow, who’s bursting at the seams but powerless to do anything but stand there and watch.
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