The Night We Watched Without Counting

Airnote  ·  Leina  ·  Jun 4, 2026

Two chairs by the corner room window,
hands held,
just watching the Driprimba.

No counting the sounds that night. No giving them names.
The kon and the pon and the soft toro—
each one simply passing through,
and being let go.

The small sounds through the glass, the rain, and the breathing beside —
all of it quietly layering into the same air of the same room.

The first night of watching without counting,
since entering the departure zone.
Something in the chest had gone a little still.
And yet — because of the warmth of the hand beside —
it was possible to stay there,
to receive even the stillness, whole.