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B I Y U N G

bahwa dalam namamu Biyung
kusantukkan kepala ini, di sebuah alas mirip ambal berbulu
wajah-wajah masjid dan tafakur
bertahan lama hingga sujud terakhir

percakapan biasa dan tangis tak dapat dibedakan
keduanya merdu dalam harmoni
aku teringat doa sepuluh tahun terakhir
tumbuh subur di buku harian

dan bayang-bayang ketidakpastian 
acapkali terdengar lirih, 
seperti ada yang ingin menerkam, 
dalam radius kurang dari sepuluh meter
seekor anak kijang di padang rumput itu berlari
mengejar kawanan dan induknya di seberang

Biyung, aku kirimkan ketenangan di setiap sepertiga malamku
namun ada yang terurai dalam tengadah
yakni doa-doa yang kusut
dan wudhu yang terserap di antara debu tayamum
sekujur persendian dan lutut-lutut membiru
aku bolak-bolikkan selimut setebal kayu
di ruang tamu berusia hampir setengah abad
kursi-kursi duduk pasrah
tinggal kayunya mesti dipoles sedikit
diplitur mengkilat bagai bangku yang berbaris dalam gereja

panas yang sungsang di kamarku
lewat reaksi kimia berubah menjadi uap
siaran Revolusi Industri terangkat ke depan pintu
dari balik kunci kamar yang mesti diputar ke kiri
oksigen dan cahaya menerobos kabel listrik
aku mengganti saluran tivi, menekan lebih lama tombol naik-turun suara
meningkatkan kontras warna
sambil menambah sesekali kadar kecerahannya
mengubah layar datar menjadi lebih cekung
seperti yang nampak dalam bilik sinema

citramu Biyung, bergerak maju mundur
di sebuah percetakan, lembaran wajahmu 
menumpuk di meja kasir
pasang-surut yang terdengar dari balik mesin fotokopi 
menculikku secara paksa, merampas kepulan asap secangkir kopi yang mulai dingin
tinggal ampasnya mengerak dan terendap

Biyung, sukmamu melintas dalam benakku
ketika pertama kali kuperhatikan kaligrafi 
di sudut lukisan Dewi Guanyin
milik seorang pelukis kontemporer
matanya setengah terpejam
bulan berpendar dari balik bahu
disusul teratai-teratai air yang mengembang

dengan menceritakanmu di sini Biyung
semacam keheningan menyelamatkanku
aroma satin tercium pekat
warna putih mendominasi lengkungan di tengah dadaku
sebuah kalung yang antik, dulunya terikat di sini
melilit bagai ular, mengintai mangsa dari lubang-lubang di parit
meski gelap dan pengap


seperti kata Sapardi, hanya dukamu abadi


Jekardah, July 2019

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