potted plant

the thirst was killing
she writhed and screamed
pain spasmed

through her once strong veins
a little water, a drop
he walked in, she saw

him hang clothes
on the washing line
so close, she gasped

for breath, wanting,
begging in despair for
a little water, a drop

but he disappeared

and she knew she had lost

she collapsed heavily

sucked out of her,
the green of the
freshly-washed shirt

dripped, beside her
drop by drop, into
a green puddle on the floor.