Like Water

When you go through me
You rearrange everything
I’ve kept in order
As if I’m a patch of sand
In your zen garden
That you rake into ripples
And spirals and place
A huge boulder in the center.

You go through me like you
Would your onion, layer by layer
Peeling away the old skin
Until I’m violet & would scream
Every time a child
Closes her eyes
Or a butterfly
Flaps its wings.

You go through me
And I long to hold you in
To keep you
Like the lost answer
To a long asked question
Yet letting you go through me
Leaves me breathless
As if keeping you
Is climbing
The highest mountain
Everyday.