It's cold even we're inside. That fluffy blanket seems do not do its job right. We've tried hot chocolate and put our hands around its side but we're still freezing hard. That cups of pot noodles are our last chance. Glasses up so cause that soup from the pot fogs it up. Soon, those tiny hands gain back its rosy color and it's still my favorite place to hold on
The sunset that evening hit our face
It all turned orange and red
Don’t forget the waves that curled between our feet, I still
felt it tickled my feet when I wrote this
And I remember the sky, it was all blue just like the color
of your favorite jacket I stole from you
Also the wind that combed our hair and tried to mess it up all the time
Dua minggu lalu setelah adzan
maghrib berkumandang, bukannya bergegas ke surau ku lihat bapak-bapak dan ibu-ibu
pakai mukena dan sarung berkerumun di halaman rumah tetangga. Rupanya salah
satu ibu jamaah sholat maghrib di mushola kami, dilecehkan saat berjalan menuju
surau. Payudaranya dipegang oleh sepasang laki-laki yang berkendar dengan sepeda
motor. Teriakannya yang memilukan sontak mengundang perhatian jamaah lain. Tak
tega ku mendengarnya. Sebenarnya ada apa antara sih pria dan payudara?
Since that day I've been asking myself questions
Do you really want me here? Or is it just because I have to
be here
Do you really want to ask me? Or is it just formality
Am I nobody? Cause you make me feel like one
Do you wish me to say no cause what I sense is uncertainty