I used to have
a locked place designed only for two and there were people going in and out, knocking
the door and closing the room.
I let them.
You used to
be a common thing; another person I let in and has left some parts of yourself
in the room I made so that I can remember you were here once.
You always
sat by the door and the windows; it was your routine,
then you were my routine.
I started
to realize how calm the sun when it set in your eyes, how smooth the sky melted
down your words, and how deep the ocean that rested on your shoulders. You
became the earth dancing within my orbit and collision was inevitable. Debris
pierced my left chest but apparently your heart was impenetrable.
You and I ended
at one point; way before we could be
real, and your seat was left empty now. But you never closed the door on your
last way out. You never turned the vacant sign on the door up every night you
walked out and made people think of this room as still occupied.
It wasn’t,
and it
still isn’t.
I now have
a room that is left opened. It is designed for two but I don’t let anyone in, because
your shadows are in every corner and won’t go out unless you ask them to. Now I
know that they linger around, either for you to kill and leave, or for you to
pacify and stay.
Either way
I won’t mind.
As long as
you close the door this time.
Jakarta, 4 Maret 2019
ζ
------------------------------------------------------------------------
picture: kosan Seno
taken by Ahmad Seno with Fujifilm XT20 on 27/07/2018
0 comments