Peeling back my layers
Slowly, gently, carefully
One by one
Like the petals of a zinnia bud
My instinct is usually
To stay your hand
Afraid of what we will find
When we reach
My core
Delicate stirrings
Like butterfly wings
Whisper to me
To let you closer
Allow you to continue to unfold me
Slowly, gently, carefully
Growing hope that when we
Reach my center
We will find incandescence
We can bathe in
© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved