In July, my heart is quiet. I opened the windows to watch the tall grass. Without the wind, the scene before me looked like a postcard; the sunlight was just a shadow over the stillness of the world, and even the creek made no noise, the water passing through the rocks without a sound. I lay against the flowers and think of spring, of you. If I close my eyes and let the heat melt against me, I can almost pretend that you’re here; that the space above the picnic cloth has shifted under your weight and the silence finally breaks with your laughter.

I think summer is too beautiful to experience without you and too painful to endure alone.

A.Z, an excerpt from my journal

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rijksmuseum enschede

I hate talking through the phone, yet when the distance kept us apart, I was always searching for an excuse to talk, to text. Although each message seemed pointless, every word translates to: “I can’t stop thinking of you” and “I wish you were here”

Unspoken yet lingering within the gaps of each alphabet, under the foot of each consonant. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. Eventually, I’ll stare at the screen and press both thumbs against the glass as if to see whether you were doing the same. Were you?

I miss you.

A.Z, an excerpt from my journal

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Alylah Zalfa

a heart woven collection of my writings. just a girl from bandung, currently in groningen.