Here is the stiff-paper equivalent of the look passed.
And here is wanting every asked-for thing answered.
She sees him in the morning mirror of her looking.
And he sees her. Both freeze-frame the restlessness
that attends an emptiness about to fill with desire.
What is happening happens as the background tabs
on the cardboard cutouts do an earthquake dance
then disconnect. This is how happiness begins—
with Yes, oh yes. Isn’t that autumn in the Midwest
there in the pasteboard foreground? Aren’t those
oak and maple leaves at the feet of the lovers?
But isn’t a rainbow on the leaf-faces a bit much?
A promise-come-unstuck moment seeds futures
by subtracting the world from around raised faces.
First the moment, and then the need. It helps
if each is honeycombed with need. Then at least
one key has to turn in the deadbolt of the door
to a dark, four-chambered cardstock heart—
you there, turn the page. Let these fold closed
and let other forms resurrect, signaling the truth
that their book of lives was unbodied till now.