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They wear their business suits in public
With their business faces, too.
But at night they tear their stage sets down
And pay their backdoor dues.
In an abandoned, moonlit theatre
Standing vulnerable at center stage,
The empty seats seem occupied
And the light begins to change.
Music sings and shadows sway
And time seems to stand still.
A spotlight shining on one body
Made of embers of sheer silk.
As these embers dance and fade,
One thing is surely true.
The last words that they whispered
Were a steady ‘I love you’.
Jessy Liz
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