The Flight Ticket's Price Rises, The Love Affair Stops
By T. Wijaya
We used to silently breaking an ashtray before we put to sleep our lusts to make love. The paintings on your body are bridges, shoes, handkerchief, café, perfume, gothic churches and bottles of alcoholic drinks. We used to be quiet all the time. Like when we touched each other's navels and let our sweat slowly became cold and sticky at dawn.
There was sawing machine in your voice, exploring my ear and then stopped in the center of my brain. It cuts like chambers of the mental institution. The we agreed, that the unfertile ones had to stay in their rooms. Fell down. Childhoods have fell down without ever being accompanied to play in the parks, or to buy toys in the morning stores. Yes, we used to secretly buying hammers to destroy the sawing machine of your voice. We failed, since the country needs passport and visa.
The flight ticket's price rises, so the love affair stops. The train failed to connect the telephone's jealousy which were burnt inside the ear. So did the buses that not carried telephone signals. There was always a sawing machine in your voice. Exploring the ear and stopped at the center of the brain. Cutting loose the nails of hatred which were implanted in the eyes since we were born. How can my marriage forgets that secrets? When we secretly hang our underwears on at the plane's window. At those time, even the could was passionate and forgot how to hide the spring sunglight in your city.
I secretly saved may moneys to buy flight tickets. While racing with God who's secretly draining the oil from the earth. I always look for you in the newspapers, while waiting for google and yahoo make the flight tickets cheaper.