Mom's Not a Prostitute

Poetry and an Unnamed Taste

Blood swish, breath, heart beat, all agreed that I would name an unnatural degup that choked the chest cavity. It seems right, I've fallen in love.

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In the midst of my busy singing from stage to stage, and the attempt to kill all forms of unnatural feelings that were directed at Dahlan, one day I got news that made the world around me seem to stop. Puang Sudi came to preach the death of Daeng Hasan. The news he got from his friend who was also quite close to Daeng Hasan. He was killed by his new wife. I was pretty devastated to learn Daeng Hasan had a new wife. I can assure you the woman***** that's what she married. And as for the news that he was murdered, I think he deserved it. Maybe he meant to treat her the same way I did. It's just that the woman had no children that she could take hostage, and was brave enough to fight back, not even reluctant to finish her life later. I am saddened by this news, however Daeng Hasan is my son's real father. But it is undeniable that I am also relieved. Those dark times are really over. I no longer need to be haunted by the daily fear of the possibility of Daeng Hasan appearing at any time and snatching Tiara from me. I'll make sure my life is calmer after this.

After hearing the news of Daeng Hasan's death, more precisely realizing my status as a widow, I felt something strange. Dahlan's face is more often present in my dreams. His voice followed wherever I went. This was in line with the desire to tell Dahlan about my status which was no longer anyone's wife. Until this moment I still do not understand why it feels like Dahlan needs to know. I just want our relationship to be better. I brushed off the expectations that grew unnaturally in the chest.

Tonight there was no gig call. Be a strange feeling that hard-earned I've been playing tricks on me. Presents anxiety and expectations that clump together by themselves. When I'm playing, there are many things I can make an escape. Joking with colleagues, spilling through songs, or obscuring them by looking at the new faces of the audience in front of the stage. But at this time, I was in a room that was fairly narrow, only befriending the sleeping Tiara and the shadow of Dahlan's face that batik filled the walls of the room.

Tok ... tok ....

The sound of knocking on the door broke the daydream. Sudden heartbeats are not hesitant, imagining a figure who is standing in front of the door. I quickly woke up, tidied my hair and put it together in a rubber band. A hasty move led me to the door. As soon as I opened the door, a slanted smile was immediately displayed, including an unusual coolness. Dahlan has often visited this house, either alone or with his two friends. But why did I see a different look on his face this time? Impressive and somewhat awkward. He must have just come home from work, as evidenced by his appearance that I still catapulted. What interests brought him here?

"Do you know where I'm at home?"

"Actually not sure, it's just that these two feet keep stepping here. And this time my hunch is not wrong."

The roar in the chest was great. The sentence just now was indeed mediocre, but not for someone who was worried. Even my ears interpret it very poetically.

"So in the store again just for, I'm this nulis prank." Dahlan thrust out a piece of shabby paper.

"What's this?" My hands were raised to grab it.

"Only a series of words may not be worthy of being called poetry. Whether you like it or not. I just want you to read it."

"Forku?"

Dahlan simply nodded while making a smile.

"Yes already. I'll take my leave first. Good night," he said later and turned to walk away. I think I just lost my ability to speak. Why didn't I say a word before he left? I just stared at that back away, until it was swallowed dark at night.

With a carefree heart I stepped into the room, similar to walking the stairs that will take me to the most beautiful contest. I immediately lay down on the bed, began to wade in every word that Dahlan inscribed in the paper—the shabby paper that has now become very valuable.

BEHIND THE RINK

Although soft-tinted, he is stunning

Fear triggers a sense of wanting to protect

My fantasy soared

Explore the night

Picking the rest of the rain rintik on taras leaves

Poetry of all the whirlwinds

The woman with the shadow hanging in her eyes

Tucked charms peeling the succum

All misguided movements of reason

Come nearer

I have an arm ready to embrace your turmoil

Even though the night is getting bigger

I'm not gonna let him swallow you

So what else does all this mean? After trying to avoid and feel able to pretend, after being reluctant to interpret and want to forget, now I can no longer do it. Blood swish, breath, heart beat, all agreed that I would name an unnatural degup that choked the chest cavity. It seems right, I have fallen in love with Dahlan, the owner of the slanted smile.

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[Connected]