and the lights dim, the fury

            closes in–

hoofbeats thunder through

            barren arenas and can’t

you hear the

            madness? this stage, this

game, these carousel minds and

            carousel hearts.

and the harlequin paints on her

            heartless grin, the
cymbals crash in time with

            lonely wind, the

vicious thrash of canvas swallows

            you up in the suffocating

folds. and can’t you hear the

            madness? the world howls

in time with the crack of your

            crocodile teeth, the fracturing

of heat-thick air, the

            sweat dripping down your

brow. and the lights flare,

            the fury stands tall, it dares to

tell you it loves you just the same.

            and the harlequin dances,

weaving around a ghostly partner,

            holding imaginary hands and

creating a body from the

            empty space she brushes with

the back of her hand, 

            creating shape from silence,

from the nothingness she eyes with

            longing or love.

and the best lies make

            the worst stories and

the worst days make the

            best trains of thought,

and the harlequin dances,

            the lights fade,

and I ask you, lover:

            will you dance with me?

Kaymin Hester is a poet currently attending the University of Virginia. Her poetry has been published in Zines + Things' "Impropriety" issue, she won first place in the 2021 Writer's Eye Contest for her poem "Displacement", and three of her articles can be read in Deep South Magazine. She was a panelist for the Newfound 2021 Prose Prize and an intern at Deep South. She completed the Poetry of Power Workshop and is now a New City Arts Fellow. Her work is forthcoming in Cool Beans Lit.