Screenplay
 

Losing you was never part of the plot,
tracing absent shapes not one of my fears.
You say to picture you gone; I cannot.
 
I welcomed skin and hands in each onslaught.
Our bed tells a story of those sweet years
and you missing doesn’t fit in the plot.
 
I bandage the pain but black wounds won’t clot
and when each taste of  holy relief nears,
I’m certain you’ll relent. You just cannot
 
pretend that long love isn’t what you sought.
I have learned all your faults and flaws, my dear,
and forgetting isn’t part of this plot.
 
Lady Macbeth knew just what hit the spot.
Crimson death pounded in her willing ears;
she pictured herself gone, but I will not.
 
The way you held me blocked out every thought,
echoed like music heard in all the spheres.
Losing you was never part of my plot.
What, try to picture you gone? I cannot.