Like a bottle of milk

It’s Sunday, and i know i miss you a lot, but i didn’t ask you to come over, because we both have agreed, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I did what you did when you were here, i put on the Kose white mask — but it was black just like you said it was — and i have called you to ask how do i put on this mask. You said,

“You letak banyak-banyak baby, tebal-tebal, then bila kering, you cabut semua sekali.”

I become much like you when i have this mask on me. I read the news too, i bought the newspaper along with iced latte, just like how you like your Sunday: no online reading because you said you’ll miss out a lot of the less important but interesting news, and as i’m reading the newspaper, i’ve realized how you are both important and interesting to me.

Dear Nis, Sunday without you is just another day i fall in love with you. Like a bottle of milk, some of my creamy words will age and curdle and then pressed into a slice of unimportant yellow cheese. And we both will become green and immortal if we both take a bite of it.

Green people are the happiest people, Nis.