Kerugian

(noun: Loss)

 

I give up my chance which is the crucial last

two minutes call in a basketball finals series.

I give up my last mango shake which specifies

the yellow fruit from the green drizzle

stopping the late freeze by a too early ripening.

I give up my time which is the best time

to quit and not the best time to quit trying.

I give up my space which is you know

I do not really know nor recognize for its

territoriality, its formation of forlorn insects.

I give up my starshine patience (naïve melody),

as it’s like teaching the kids how to shoot

for the stars which are like shadows on the wall

and not anymore those daddy tricks which remind

them they’re kids, and that to myself I’m a Komodo.

I give up my right shoe which usually sends me

photographs, by the way old photographs

of my head and feet together, from my left shoe

sailing far across the crater lakes of Kelimutu2.

I give up my vision which is ultraviolet

at a research conference while poetry as

morning rain blooms on the glass of storefronts.

I give up my song which is going to prepare

me to disappear for another six months.

I give up my fingers which climb like vines

to touch the skin in which I shall never be found.