Alternate Ending (Screenplay #3)

weary collapse
arms gaunt with brittle age
back arching against the sun
rising the way
flag poles do
mark the end of a battle

the tent tattered by the wind
would that I could kill you
but I’ve already slain you
many times tonight

with my own spear
your soft spot still warm
a martyr to my lust
dripping open womb

I said it with
words that might be caustic

you’re a make-believe
origin
an excised verb for feeding
once I’ve drained of you
all that I shall need

you’ll be resurrected for
someone else
where you’ll complain
about the severity
what makes you weep
what makes you moan
what makes you seep

and all your blood
where mine once was
these veins are hollow
I become an autumn husk
we betray the moon
with every cricket chirp

every promise made
were but the blade of grass
I see us standing back in childhood
before either us jaded gems
forgot gymnastics

but that was life
syllables for devotion
now in all honesty
the sun would go nova
before either we trust