The day hangs on you like paper cut-out clothes
bladed edge has sliced the afternoon
free from dimension
the dress is blue

with surreptitious fingers
press the tabs
around proof of structure

behind the music
there is the rustle
of everyday lies
and papered vulnerability

arrange your limbs
to suit the garment
and the request

match facade to facade
and dance

The camera catches nothing
instead the moment
you weakened
closed the distance
cheek to his jaw
eyes closed against hope
his glasses
askew