Salt

salt

Nails bleeding

Clawing yourself out

Primal

Gasping for authentic air to touch your soul

Scars rot with infection begging to feel the warmth of new life unfold

Even the most gentle of touches hurt

Cracked open

Raw

Salt poured on open wounds

The paradox of the heal and burn

~Alisa Hutton

Right Now

Right Now

A relaxed state of knowing

My body slides in to the chair, an inexplicably comfortable intuition

One of the legs seems to wobble, maybe the floor just isn’t a fit?

Perhaps, this imperfection is simply a reminder that imperfect is the right fit?

This is where I am to be seated, a moment in time

1:11 as I glance at my watch

Sensual aromatics, freshly ground coffee and spiced tea drift across my senses, memories warming on plates passing by

Allowing my gaze to wander I look through the window, the pane perfectly weathered to tell her story

Restless time, history, comfort in a solid foundation and a fresh renewed purpose

Old wooden ears that have heard it all, it is her frame

Glass eyes that have seen decades of curious onlookers who have wandered in and out, it is her window

The frame and pane different in their purpose, yet that purpose lost without support and synchronicity

Time allows for clear reflection

The sky dripping an incredible blue, drenched and wide open, the white clouds perfectly placed to outline the magnificence of today

Such a simple moment in time, such incredible beauty

How am I to imagine that I was to be anywhere else

Now that I have seen

Right now

~Alisa Hutton

Wide Open

angels

It isn’t my place

No plan or hope for a connection that I wish to keep

My table seats few

The spirits poured of particular character and taste, the company never cheap

Arms wide open

I am not sure your ego has allowed you to remove your blinders and fully come to see

My wing span now

The simple reflection that I have set myself free

No longer do I stand to extend myself to you in trust and good faith

See my eyes, hear my lack of words

Your delusions of me have been neatly left at the door

My respect for you sharply stuck in my back and the reality

I was always just an acquaintance

Nothing more

~Alisa Hutton

A Fine Mist

mist

Love you feel, unspoken

That long hug you want to extend, never given

Desires so deeply churning inside, forever hidden

Instincts of vulnerability wrapped and boxed, echoed silent thoughts

Perception of a safe life and uniformity held with higher regard than the breath that gives you life

Your heart beat reflects not the love you feel but the tick of your beating clock

With a heart full of love and a soul cracked wide open

I wonder with curiosity

Why you are watching it all disappear like a fine mist floating through your fingertips

~Alisa Hutton

Some

moon

While the world was chasing the light of the sun

Basking in the play of uniformed hearts

All things daytime

Glossy surfaces and comfortable prose in well-lit spaces

She noticed some who quietly breathe at 4am

Who quietly ponder thoughts in the dark

Mirrored in their tired eyes

She noticed the light of the moon

Its ability to shine during darkness

Not when the world is well-lit, comfortably warm and knowing

The moon, its unique nature of sitting in the discomfort of the dark

Embracing fear

Yet still able to bring light

Hanging just right

Beside the stars where hopes and dreams are silently thrown when dusk departs and prior to the assumed arrival of dawn

In her quiet

She fell in love with the moon, its gentle touch and tender ways of giving light to those who dare to breathe in the discomfort of their dark

~Alisa Hutton

Comfortable Bite

empty-chair2

She drank from a cup called love

Topped with romantic tale and bold sincerity

Holding dreams in passing clouds and whispered glances

Dropping her thoughts and caring extension

Eyes and Heart

Expansive and wide open

Her vision, none

A seat at the table of embarrassment and hurt

Plated for one

Concepts of such belief seemingly left a stain on her linen

As her mother always warned

Fine cotton is not meant for every guest who arrives at your door

Merely for the ones who show good character and by standard deserve a little more

Glitter from her belief in magic started to scratch at her throat

Taking pause her heart took note

She sucked on a lozenge, a new flavor she thought she should try

Reality

Not so inspiring but a much more comfortable bite

~Alisa Hutton