She was a ZZZ plant. And I loved her.
She thrived in the dark and accepted the light.
She shined. A luscious shine, emenating from leaves divine.

I drowned her.


I read about killing.
What kills a plant.
Too much water. Too little water.

And I did not know
I did not know how to read the soil
Was it moist, or was it dry.

I digged my fingers, always hesitant
This city girl can’t have black nails
But the soil would invade my hands

And so I left it at the guessing stage
Is it moist, or is it dry
While my zzz love was dying, in front of my eyes


When a being you love, dies
You want to understand it and remember it whole
You want to touch it and kiss it good bye.

I digged my zzz out
I cradled her roots
They were creatures of their own

Three beasts, agonising
I could see their pain
And I despaired of my nails

I placed the roots on the floor
I admired them
I photographed them

I wrote this poem
To the being I loved
And I killed in ignorance

Not to soil my nails
Not to mess up my floor
Not figuring out what’s dry – and what’s not.