you stood glossed in front of me.
like an antique.
purified.
like porcelain.
and everything else just stopped.
like portrait.
frozen-still.
like almost dead.
you stood blurred in front of me.
like a shadow.
darkening.
like a demon.
and the rest just faded away.
like a small feather.
hovering.
like almost gone.
21 january 2001
“bagaimana sembuh dari asmara, kecuali dengan perang?” (centhini – kekasih yang tersembunyi, hal. 31)
an old poem? 
