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Good Night Lover



Renzana Alcatraz


"May I say something?" I asked Kanya when she finished reading her poem.


"Why should I get permission first? We also talked about it, right?" kanya answered provoking a smile on my lips.


"Yes, if so you listen carefully. Don't let any words get missed."


"Ih, what the hell is Mas? Don't be curious" said the woman, sounding adorable. I can imagine Kanya's smile being shy when she says it.


"So, listen to it first. It's me talking."


I opened a journal located not far from my hand. A few days ago, I wrote it down when this feeling of longing couldn't be contained anymore.


"So ... What do you want to say? How is diem?" kanya asked, sounding impatient. I smiled before reading her a poem.


Good night lover


Have you fallen asleep in the cradle of dreams?


Or, are you still awake and spelling out the characters without pause?


Could it be that you are actually chatting, humming uneasily on an increasingly peerless night?


Love, I'm sending you a miss poem in a blue envelope


Complete with butterfly gel


Also purple flowers


For you to know


If my body also calls your name


Do not forget I inserted asmarandana chat to treat your heart is sad


Because of the things we miss that we do not meet


"I ... didn't know that Mas Araz wrote poetry too" Kanya said after I finished reciting the poem. Again I can imagine her face meeting pink.


"Where, good?"


"What, Mas?"


My laughter broke out in response to Kanya's question. The woman can also misbehave even though she is not face to face.


"Well, whatever it is. Maybe the poem or when I read it maybe."


Kanya did not answer directly. He looked like he was thinking and putting together the right words before saying them. My smile is getting wider. Had I been able to see her expression directly, maybe at the same time I had pinched her reddened cheek every time she blushed.


"Him, what's diem? You didn't fall asleep, did you?"


"Hemmm .. No, Mom. I'm just confused as to how to respond. I'd say Mas Araz's poem is good, but the effect is very ordinary. I mean, not his usual poetry, but the comments I'm about to make. Well, how is it. I've never read Mas Araz's poem before, so there's no comparison. Ah, youknow. I don't know what to comment anymore."


He sounded hurried when he gave an explanation. More visible if he is being misbehaved and blushed embarrassed. His attitude made me unable to hold back the laughter.


*Kok Mas Araz even laughed anyway? Is something funny?"


"I'm not asking you to comment on complicated terms, Kanya. I just want to know what you think of my poem."


Kanya sighed. "Hemm .. I love Mas Araz's poetry. Moreover, the "I sent the rhyme miss in the blue envelope. Complete with butterfly gel. Also purple flowers". I don't know why it feels like I'm so drifting when Mas Araz bacainnya. Does Araz love poetry?"


"Well, if it can be called a poem anyway, then I like it a lot."


"That means Mas Araz is often scribbled?" kanya asked, sounding enthusiastic. My smile is expanding again.


"Yes, if there is free time, rather than dumbass sometimes just write anyway."


"Can be read again dong if that is so," Kanya's pinta without feeling hesitant.


"May be sure, but not just about romance. Yesterday I remembered you, so that's the poem."


Kanya's straightforward praise made me smile. I know she loves literature, but I've never talked to Kanya about it. It turned out that he became increasingly optimistic when talking about literature. If only I had known from the beginning, it would have been this path that I would have used to get close to him. Ah, not a mistake that needs to be regretted as well, right? After all, we are now together even though there are still obstacles that hinder.


"Mas Araz, what's the silence?"


"I'm looking for a poem that's right for you."


"And ... see you?"


"Yes, listen to me."


I took a deep breath before finally reciting another poem in my journal. He kept listening.


In the woman's head, there's the world's noisiest city.


A city that does not fall asleep even though the earth has rotated 24 hours.


There is always noise in the city in the head of the woman who comes and goes and turns.


Sometimes, there were warplanes passing over the city.


Sometimes there are shouts that are not clear where it came from.


Often times crazy women or men monologue all day.


Once upon a time, a circus troupe also stopped by the city in the woman's head.


Not infrequently, handsome men face downstream and down the streets of the city who are never alone.


All the noise is going on there.


All forms of confusion are inevitable.


Until there was no place for the woman to take a break from the noise of the city in her head.


Until one day, the woman cut off her head.


Hoping for the noise of the city inside his head to disappear in the blink of an eye.


However, the noise of the city actually incarnated from a headless body.


A long time ago, after I had recited a poem, Kanya did not speak. I don't know what the woman thought. Until I called him three times, he just said from the other end of the phone.


"With Mas Araz's poem, I felt the same way."


The corner of my lips is expanding. This poem is representative of Kanya. He's a thinker with all kinds of noise in his head. There was just something he was pondering. With or without awareness.


It was also the first impression I caught when I first met in the elevator. Seeing him who was nervous and could not calm down, made me unconsciously read the contents of his head. And, I was surprised at the thought of how noisy Kanya's head was.


"So what's the city in your head?"


"Hemmm .. is not as crowded as usual. Probably because I talked to Araz a lot of times. But, there are certain moments as well that are really noisy. As of now, it's a little more noisy to mention Mas Araz's name and the possibilities that will happen."


"What possibilities do you think?"


Kanya looks pensive. He didn't answer my question right away and I suddenly hated the silence between us. This miss was too strong to fit me and I started to greedily demand more.


I let out a breath. For a moment, I remembered a piece of the sentence that had gone viral some time ago. Who else if not the Dilan who became an idol of teenagers to parents. "That miss is hard, let me be". And, it turns out the feeling of longing can be this scary.


"It's possible that I didn't meet Mas Araz. Maybe I won't step up to this point."


"So ... ?"


"I'm lucky to see Mas Araz."


Kanya's answer made me breathe a sigh of relief.


"I Miss U, Kanya. We'll definitely meet soon."