A Little More

Dead Mesquite Tree - Mesquite Dunes - Death Valley, CA - Infrared Black & White

Life’s misconception

Death creeps in to our soul taking hold in the shadows of our night, darkness

A thirsty and unannounced fog that rolls over us in toxic devour, swallowed

Such delusion.

Death is;

Silently announced at birth with our arrival

We all know yet none of us dare utter “welcome child, live well, die better”

Good form of the socially polished adorn birth with silver and plaster smiles

Never to speak of such discomforts such as limited time

After all if we speak of death we may invite it closer

Lean in. Listen. Hear. Shout. Understand.

You will depart

Death is the last name we all share

Welcome my brothers and sisters

Death is the commonality of our family tree

Death is not a secret or a toxin of devout proportions, nor kept in the shadows of our night

It does not search out in thirst or darkness, mine or yours

Death is a gift of knowing that we all seem to ignore

Simply telling us

Live well and love a little more

~Alisa Hutton

 

Succulent

lips

Cashmere

Close your eyes and imagine the feel, hers

Touch with bated intensity, softly, she wants to be mapped in long curious stroke

One finger at a time, deep, slow

She is the muse and the poet

Paint her canvas, devour whole

She draws you closer, her breath, listen, feel it

Climbing up your neck, her lips gently whisper all you need to know

She is warming a story, anticipatory rhapsodic rhythm, motion, hers and yours

Did you notice the sapphire rug on the floor?

Take off your shoes, she plans to have you there, take you in effortless flow

Transcend

Take her closer to God

Succulent

A word you should know

~Alisa Hutton