Upon that stage,
we were a pair of actors
peddling joy with laughter and tears
that spilled
onto the faces of the audience.
That theater is now old,
its walls an echo
of the cheers we once rented out.
The curtain divides us
from the leftovers of laughter and tears
that quietly
rot between the lines.
The stage lights go dark,
and we are merely two strangers
returning as spectators
of a dead theater,
that I used to call a room.
