I’m going to direct the outcome of this relationship:
We fade in:
Ext. Stadium Step—wide shot
And shouldering the burden for too long…he collapses…
Cut to:
Bloody-aftermath bedrooms
Cut to:
Barking shins
Cut to:
Panning eyelids (always upwards)
Cut to:
Fallout shelters
Cut to:
Overrated-love
Cut to:
Ephemeral teasing
Cut to:
Portions of fecal waste left displayed on an altar
Cut to:
God-echo
Cut to:
a hero
Cut to:
Scorpions and jackets
Cut to:
Spirit, O Spirit
Cut to:
Slow chases
Cut to:
Dashboard wasteland
Cut to:
Backseat-love
Cut to:
Deep sigh
Cut to:
Condemned, drift-less stranger-apparent
Cut to:
A sneeze gone awry
Cut to:
Coffee on balustrade
Cut to:
Ybor City
Cut to:
V for Vendetta showing
Cut to:
Twin Towers five-years later
Cut to:
Blackberry rows
Cut to:
Black fingerprints
Cut to:
Parking lots (soon enough that is)
Cut to:
Int. Burned-out Bedroom—close-up
Members Only: until otherwise stated…
Smash-cut to:
Slow Karma
Cut to:
Broken notes
Cut to:
New orgasms
Cut to:
Overhead, and by your side
Cut to:
Wet fingertips
Cut to:
Home-made bombs
Cut to:
Rolled-up sleeves
Cut to:
Distances, while I watch you open it
Cut to:
a new American Low
Cut to:
“Platano” playing
Cut to:
Fingers through hair
Cut to:
Painting, as black as I know it shows
Cut to:
Broken Cadillacs
Panting, as they paint us black
Cut to:
the unknown
Cut to:
Ext. Parking Lot—continuous
Drunk outside a theme park (the rebellion is now over)…
Cut to:
Final coverage
Cut to:
A Camera
Cut to:
B Camera
Cut to:
Master shot
Cut to:
Magic hour
Cut to:
Static at the knee
Cut to:
Breaking up
Cut to:
Final shots
Cut to:
Sunsets as flowers blooming in me
Cut to:
Bottles at crutches
Cut to:
Peg legs wet with condensation
Cut to:
Limbs as we’d have them
Cut to:
Old orgasms
Cut to:
Pliant ventricles
Cut to:
the Pretty Odd
Cut to:
Last-chance concerts
Cut to:
Comedians
Cut to:
Pictures I’ll never see
Cut to:
Ext. the film ends—continuous
All that’s left is my needs…
We fade out:
Black screen.
James Blevins 