There is nothing as holy as an empty theatre.

Walking in, gently removing the ghost light,

carefully unplugging it and stowing it away

(this is the cross, and you are about to be

crucified.)

Turning the work lights on,

inhaling history.

Truly grasping the scope

of everything that has taken place.

Thousands of nights

of ephemeral communities.

Blood, passion, fear, love, hate,

truth, beauty.

There is nothing as holy as an empty theatre.

The space that bears witness

to countless transformations.

Nothing like it.

Nothing as holy.

Nothing.

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