Tag: allie hutchison
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the asymptotic divide
Inside these asymmetric rhymes of mine, there runs a straight line, that my words seek, but never find; an asymptote chasing after what’s inside my mind’s eye. The content of that line will stay unbeknownst to everyone but I, though I’ll do my best to try to get you as close as I can to…
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a cigarette burns the night sky
Rubber band legs and cotton candy brains Steadfastness left trashed when I let the time pass too fast. In just a minute, the whole world can pass; while hours can drift by with nothing on full blast. I light up a cigarette in bed, looking at the glowing stars above my head. They’re clinging to…
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(w)holes and boxes
How can a box on a page be so heavy? If I tell you my race, creed, or gender, it doesn’t mean you know me. When I pack up my identity, those are some of the lightest elements I carry. Although, I know it may not be the same for everybody. I ask myself if…
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open hand/closed fist (felt vulnerable, might delete later)
Somewhere I read about love as an open hand or a closed fist. In the case of the latter, it makes me feel sick, like grabbing onto something that doesn’t exist. I realized that gripping is what I’ve been doing, since the first time I was scared it was you I could be losing. But…
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The Knowing
There’s nothing complicated in this thing. I just let it sit and there’s truth in how it rings. “Play it as it lays,” instructed Didion, and when I do it sings, resounding cosmic melodies. A knowing I’ve never known before. It’s always been there, but hidden behind locked doors; the keys buried inside my core.…
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offkey notes
Once those words are dropped, it becomes a question of whether to fast forward or not. I’ve heard this part of the song, when suddenly a note in the harmony sound wrong. Do I keep listening to another shoddy orchestra? Or just hit the ‘next’ button, on to another sonata? It’s always that first note…
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sol
I was thinking of getting a new tattoo, I’d like to think it’s not because of you. I was thinking of getting the word solitude. I like my own palette of hues. It was only after I was tangled up with you that things turned a slanted blue. Solitude comes from sōl and in Latin,…
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tumbleweeds
Somewhere between biting my lip and letting it slip, there’s a crypt; not of the dead, but of the buried. I’d like to dust off each memory and carefully adorn myself with it lovingly; for I’ve been a bit too mean in needing to hide so many things. Instead of rooting deep and planting a…
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skin + bones
Do you remember the time we thought ourselves naughty, when we wore spandex suits to a Halloween party? You were skin and I was bones; a couples costume we found so haughty. I don’t know if you remember me now. I don’t know where your spirit can be found. It appears in quiet moments and…
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everybody sees somebody
Under the tall Roman pine trees, I saw her sitting there, discretely. A notebook in hand, contemplating serenely. I paused and thought, why can’t that be me? And for a minute I smile, imagining the calmness of her being. But then I wondered: who might be looking at me?
Allie Hutchison, PhD 