"The Culling"

in a wide open field
they try to catch me
but i cannot run.
their weapon is a butterfly net
and they trap me while i
flutter from flower to flower
and they snap off my wings
like powder.

Light love. Gentle music.
Sweet kiss. Sweep me
off my feet, but don't
come into me.

our light has dimmed.
i dropped the bulb by mistake.
a thousand bits of glass, shattered,
between us.

now these are just fragments.
the entire picture looks like
a single drop of tear.