one less worry

it was one less worry,
one more check on the list:
a notch on the barrel,
bedposts

he'd killed her
and left her to dry
missus
skinny
laundry

everything for a reason
the curve and angle of the sky,
the sun
the way he looked at her with hands draped over the coverlet,
hemo-seeping red
beneath white wrists

he'd killed her with a thought,
cut and spewing
wordswordswords

and said nothing in return,

but strung her up
and
left her to dry.