Nectar

there once was a boy
who leapt the fields
to capture beauty under glass
so his feet crushed
milk from milkweeds
and flying hair caught rivers of sun

then
              orange
flutters
            beat
soft
                against
his
      hands

there once was a butterfly
who dreamed of being possessed
but not under glass
it opened and closed its wings
like a little yellow prayer
not knowing what boys do
to pretty little things