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Quote by Tasaro GK

“Jangan kau ajari cara melupakanmu. Aku lebih tahu itu. Hari-hariku lebih fasih mengeja rasa itu..”

Quote by Tasaro GK

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Tasaro GK

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“His body is a masterpiece, inked in stories I long to trace. Each muscle, carved like a goddess’ desire, tempts my fingertips to linger. His smile disarms me, melts my doubts into longing. His voice—low, smooth—sends shivers down my spine. And his touch… oh, his touch—electric, addictive, unforgettable. Against his chest, I find solace, the rhythm of his heartbeat my lullaby. His ambition is wildfire, a force that builds empires— Yet in my arms, he is simply mine. Imperfect, yet perfect in every way that matters. I don’t yet know his love, but I crave the way it would feel. And something tells me, maybe, he craves me too.”

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“Lupa is at the riverbank or at the entrance to the cave waiting for us to remember, to reclaim our unique embodiment and path. Here is not the stereotypical perfect Goddess, shiny feathers, golden hair and sexy pout that we often compare ourselves with, but the true perfection of the divine feminine that is that which judge as the 'inperfection' of ourselves. She is the wild, untamed, perhaps lost parts of ourselves that need our love and compassion. She is the ferocity and courage that is required to go to places you fear most" Lupa. She-Wolf of Rome, Mother of Destiny by Rachel S Roberts”

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Book:Lupa: She-Wolf of Rome and Mother of Destiny
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“Aku Pernah Memberimu Nama Aku pernah memberimu nama, mungkin kau lupa. Apa arti sebuah nama? Kaupetik ungkapan itu dari sebuah buku dan aku hanya tersenyum mengiyakan. Tapi aku menyukai nama yang aku berikan kepadamu. Meski sudah lama sekali rasanya aku tak menyapa dirimu dengan sebutan itu. Seperti ada yang hilang dari almanak. Hari-hari tanpa jejak. Waktu yang tak lagi memberi kita sekadar jarak untuk menghitung lagi apa yang pernah saling kita beri. Katamu, ini bukan tentang apa yang pernah engkau terima. Engkau tak merasa menyimpan apa-apa. Juga perasaan-perasaan yang dulu pernah aku titipkan kepadamu. Sebuah buku yang lusuh berisi potret kelabu. Mungkin perjalanan, mungkin juga kenangan. Beberapa penggal puisi yang tak lagi mampu menyembunyikan dirinya dari air mata. Dan lukisan wajah senja yang mengabur saat matahari perlahan tenggelam di dalam hitam bola matamu tak lagi mengingat namaku.”

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Author:Titon Rahmawan
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