Out of the Frame

Stella Hayes

She turns away out of the frame, slipping
out of a rough seam, folding laundry into canopies
blotting out first me, then her own hologram 

which keeps splitting & splintering off.
She's shifted, she’s brushing the grime
off her white teeth. She doesn't floss.

What's the use now that the shadows 
are too wide. As post-war boulevards 
releasing light into tunnels. Go quickly.