for you

from dina

dedicated to mon

i.

eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting i almost jump in

my view is tapestry trapped within the modesty i tried to build, isolated in obscure guild fractured is your arms, dismantling the bars which once separated me from the cosmos

your eyes are of longing sea i am dying to dive down, and just drown liberty is breaking the bricks down, mind set free! loving you is inevitable: path was forged the moment you entered

ii.

i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch everybody wants you everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

jeonghan, your lips are smeared with paint as red as blood. hair sticking up, it's contaminated with charcoal residual. perhaps everyone wants you the same way i do: raw, messy, and vulnerable.

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dedicated to mon
dear mon 🌙

pelagic hurricanes away, your relentless attempt to convey the depth of oceanic trench that is your mind lulls me into a trance. twirling my ring made of paper, swirling my bracelet made of beads, i have known it by heart that you'd accept both without a second thoughts. it's the thought that counts, no?

i, too, feel interconnected with you. i understood you better than i did myself – that soon to be changed when i perceived myself through your lenses. language may be a barrier of expression, but it's also our strength. later, i found out that there are languages – we don't even consciously speak – that transmit what's hidden from our own senses. i see you, i know you, i understand you, i want to say. you'd get it nonetheless without me having to voice it out loud.

so, what do we have in the air, sizzling between us?

it's love, for certain. it's a telepathic exchange, perhaps. it's familiarity.

you speak in your literatures and songs, so do i. what we hold close to heart may differ in both aspects, but why must it be something that hinder us from embracing our feelings to each other? it must not. i will break every pebbles and obstacles in between you and i. i want to learn about/from you just as much as you have learned about/from me – feeling it seeping through my soaked clothes, trailing down to my palms as if i am holding yours, it eventually runs in my veins – as i become another you. not a vessel, but a friend. a soul friend, a platonic lover, a personal hand holder if you may. you name it, you choose it as you've chosen me.

p.s. i love you and i hope we won't stop treasuring each other

from: 켑

dedicated to rey

i.

mengenangnya sekarang, aku rasa perjumpaan kami tidak jauh dari kaitannya dengan pelayaran dalam mencari kenikmatan. saat itu usiaku sembilan dan aku kabur dari rumah selama beberapa jam, memanjat pohon kersen sambil mengelap ingus ke kaos hitamku.

ada jeda di antara langkahnya mendengar tangisan lirih dan manja dari perempuan yang bundanya tidak membolehkannya memasak mie instan, menimbang haruskah dia meladeni siapapun sosok yang terdengar kesakitan itu.

ketika tatapan kami bertemu, tidak ada ledakan supernova atau kegirangan yang membuncah. hanya ada daun yang bergesekan, keheningan, dan koneksi magis yang anak berumur sembilan tahun masih tidak tahu apa artinya. ia mengulurkan tangannya ke atas, di telapaknya ada sebuah jeruk oranye (yang ia dapatkan di dalam nasi boks dari tetangganya yang punya hajat).

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dedicated to dira

di bawah bayangmu, segenap energi ia curahkan, termasuk keinginan terpendam. tak tahu menahu dirimu bahwa sementara kau memejamkan mata, ada kerlipan gairah untuk mengangkatmu lebih tinggi ketimbang rembulan yang menyinari cakrawala, cahayanya menari di pipimu melalui jendela yang terbuka sementara kau juga menari. dia membisikkan itu setiap malam di sela mimpi dan kenyataan: tempatmu berada di ketinggian, bersama tubuh kosmik. maafkan aku bumi ini menjangkarmu.

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dedicated to sashi

both are winter-born, or so their parents always remind them.

“you will find yourself bloom despite the cold. the only remaining yellow in the sea of white.”

the words echoing within is as familiar as a daily chant of prayer the girl recites every night to keep the demons away. it's not that the boy believes in no ghosts, he's just more attached to the concept of cosmic strangeness.

“like alien?”

“exactly like alien.”

“i suppose they do exist.” the girl is twirling the edge of her warm, teal sweater.

“i think...” the boy is still struggling with the creation of his snowman. “i'd like to think that if something alive and unknown indeed live among us, they would reside as far away as possible.”

“you realize that the scientists have yet to explore ninety five percent of our ocean, right?”

“i sure hope it stays that way. there are things that should remain unexplored.”

the childhood friends are holding hands through their mittens — trying to exude comfort — as they're looking at the built mr. snowman. watching it carefully as if its arms that are made by sturdy branches might move, which indicates that the threat is apparently not as distant as the boy hoped it would be.

it doesn't move, it just stands still.

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dedicated to ghea

kebiasaan ghea kalau pulang sampai malam tuh ya ketiduran sambil motoran. adrian gak pernah capek ngingetin kalo, “INI TUH BAHAYA!” tapi tetep aja, ngantuk kan gak bisa ditahan.

sebelum jemput ghea dari lelahnya kegiatan usai event, adrian mulai sering nyempetin diri buat beliin kopi di kafe. kafe manapun yang dia lewatin, asal ghea nggak ngorok aja pas di jalan. sejauh ini, metode ini berhasil. kalau nggak, adrian mau minjem jarit ibunya yang dulu sering beliau pakai untuk nggendong adrian supaya dia bisa ngiketin badan ghea ke punggungnya, biar nggak jatuh. untungnya nggak perlu. malu juga kalau dilihatin pengendara lain.

kalau ghea udah minum kopi, dia aktif banget cerita. meski helm adrian dan deru angin kadang menenggelamkan kata-kata ghea, tapi dia nggak pernah malu untuk nanya, “hah?” berulang kali dan ghea gak pernah lelah untuk ngulangin. kecuali satu waktu pas ghea harus ngulang perkataannya lima kali sampai akhirnya kepala adrian ditoyor. untung nggak nabrak bus di depannya.

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dedicated to carissa

2018

adam menunggu di bawah lampu temaram teras depan rumah orang tuanya. tidak terlihat ada bunga sejak dari perjalanan hingga kedatangannya kemari, wangi yang tercium hanyalah minyak kolonye yang ia minta dari ayahnya sebelum berangkat. alangkah mudahnya romansa di era millenial; berkirim pesan, dikenalkan teman saat bertemu di konser, menjadi panitia di divisi yang sama untuk menjalankan kegiatan sosial. meski demikian, adam mengetuk pintu rumah di depannya sementara imajinasinya berkelana membayangkan rasanya mengajak perempuan yang beberapa menit lagi ia temui berjalan-jalan di sekitar kota menggunakan sepeda ontel di bawah langit 1900-an. lebih sedikit polusi, tentunya.

carissa tahu adam akan datang ke rumahnya, tetapi fakta ini tidak membuat dadanya berdegup lebih lambat. senyumnya merekah ketika mata mereka bertemu. ia mengeratkan kardigan coklatnya seolah adam bisa melihat secara jelas debaran jantungnya. dingin yah, ia bergumam sendiri, membuat itu sebagai alasan yang dapat diterima pikirannya.

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dedicated to ava

he wants to learn a plethora of things before the coronation day finally arrives. baking pastries has never been his concern for there are maids going to and fro, fulfilling even his oddest cravings. lighting up a firework on the palace's rooftop would only cause a riot and obviously an act that brings shame upon the kingdom. he has attempted on sneaking out to play cards with the infamous gambler around he castle, uncle jin. despite uncle jin's strong disapproval for that unusual secrecy, he agreed to help him out, but it wasn't like he succeeded anyway. he stopped at the first try because his father crushed him with the look of disgust after finding out his little shenanigan. this is how you act as the successor of the crown? he had asked. this is how i normally should act as a curious kid, he swallowed back his retort.

there are a lot of things he want to try out except reigning.

but right at this moment, he just wants to know what's bothering the girl who is currently wandering around back and forth in the garden, drawing his attention away from the book he was about to read. her hair is as black as the raven's wings, especially now as he looks down at her from the upper floor of the castle. he feels bad for stealthily watching at she paces, but he doesn't know how to strike a conversation with a lady if he decides to go down and approach her. we invite them over for you. we hold this pretentious and once-in-a-blue-moon event for you. make some effort, he could hear his father's voice echoing inside his head. most of the time, he could dispel inconvenience that goes around within his head, but this time he could hear the tainted truth in an imaginary notion he just creates.

his feet work faster than his mind does.

✦✧

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dedicated to sashi

i want to hold your hand and feel the weight of the world from the steady beat of your pulse you carry around, uninhibited.

i want to keep feeling the rhythm of a constant tap of your finger against my palm as the sky pours its tears on us. “i love this feeling!” you announce it joyously and urgently, like an important message. you're right, everything about you matters.

so we dance under the drizzle, despite the splattered mud and merciless wind. we find each other's bodies to grip on for balance is all we need, both literally and figuratively.

we're the masters of rainfalls, our laughters are echoing against apartment walls, and we are carving down a history.

your purity is such a great virtue that tethers you to this eternal discovery of what it means to be happy. what it means to be happy is spending your weekends with your little snowy friend, chasing around in the backyard. what it means to be happy is coming home to freshly baked croissant or garlic bread, the scent is hanging in the atmosphere. what it means to be happy is drowned in warmth of your family's love.

you are not the land of wonder all sailors could only dare to dream, whose soil is scattered by moondust, whose water sparkles like fireworks on a new year day. you are the land i am stepping on, flourishing like the crowds at noon and city lights at night, packed with mesmerizing landscapes and unsolved mysteries, you're the towering skyscrapers as well as the innocent playgrounds. you're so real, so alive, so good.

so when your hands reach out again, my initial thought is to reach back. those hands will lead me to strange places, up to the mountain and down to the atlantis. those legs will run along with me throughout ups and downs of rural roads. those shoulders are so strong, but i simply want them to be somewhere that resembles home.

all those journeys, be it up above the clouds or down underground, to be with you is the gentlest time of the day. i cannot wait for the next day's adventure.

dedicated to jam

there's a certain spark in his eyes: a glint that starts off the creation of art. you were convinced that his hands were the source of magic, until you found out that apparently, it was his whole being—you are now completely spellbound.

there's nothing astounds you more than finding a part of yourself within each individual you meet. so, when he divinely barged into the diverse life of yours—carrying all the charms and resemblances—you couldn't help but wonder how did life itself manage to prepare such remarkable coincidence.

his emotions are present & visible. he shares without boundaries, honoring the limitless freedom of exchanging tender love and extravagant ideas. his smile stretches wider as he talks about arts, his dreams, and a series of escapades. his voice becomes your source of healing as well as bliss. his stories are alluring tales to reread every once in a while for they're the best treasures to revisit.

“but that's okay,” he emphasizes in a reassuring manner as he talks about hardships. when the sky darkens and a vicious morning appears, those words work like a promise. a dash of tremulous light that forcefully seeps through the dense clouds. “it's okay.”

“just because you are used to something doesn't mean you like it.” the act of defying against conformity, perhaps he wants to fly beyond the popular belief. perhaps he desires to discover himself along the way, more than those labels and what's already convenient could possibly offer.

you want to keep feeling, to keep loving. and he provides nothing less than a handful of evocative remarks that amplify the sea of affection you've harboured. with both his and your resilience as well as passion to strive harder, there's one thing you chant every night like a prayer: “we're going to make it bigger one day.”

(a spoiler: you have)