I.

slender heel

with a thick black line

down its back

of white

---

the line held in its place

by the polished whiteness

which is held in its place

by the charcoal night

---

the heels click on the dots

in the pavement speckled

like a murky Easter egg

the anticipation inflates

with each sharp step

because her black and white

(shoes)

can see the neon lights:

the yellow and red spinning

in ever direction getting mixed

by and in the air

the lines on the paper-thin tents

colored in orange and blue

and the hazy gold

of the Ferris wheel

---

Pandemonium with paint thrown on

and set to the beat

of a song she can’t make out

the chant of a hundred toes

getting numb as blood rushes to the head

---

her minds adds in the words

II.

impatiently she runs off the leveled sidewalk

and dents clumps of grass

with the points of her heels

all the while looking up to—

pink and green light bulbs,

matches setting fire

to the blackened sky and the neighborhood’s

restless spirits

---

and soon she’s in the middle

of entrances to roller coaster

cars held by loose bolts

daring you to scream

---

she’s between

games of bottles and balloons

filled with nothing but air

and promises of teddy bears

---

then a hand closes around

her fingers and his voice

reminds her of the music

---

sparks of sound come from

the speakers and soak up sweat,

thriving on the energy as

the couples dance and

yesterday spins away

between the skirts,

the strands of hair,

and the dancers wish for a cloak

to descend upon the block

so reality stays

this brightly lit forever

III.

one by one the lights

fade into black

like raindrops that hang

gracefully in the air

for a moment but then find

the ground

---

so the people scatter around corners

like ants

clouds of little bodies

scuff up the streets—

but one pair shuffles

slowly under the arch

as the last ride

grudgingly halts

---

their eyes heavy

with artificial light

and their eardrums still feel

the pound of the music

but there’s nothing

to separate their feet now

and they press so close

she can feel his damp skin

---

her heels now click

a calmer rhythm

and the moon spotlights her

from behind

though she doesn’t turn around