Artifice

That day we wandered onto a film set -
remember?
Under the arch and through
the bright sheen of the afternoon flickering
off the river, in a moment smothered

in a smoky autumnal Prague, amid trailers,
snaking cables and the tubes of fog,
this world of seeming – glamour's underclothes -
a new scene in this city where every corner
beguiled with lush décor.

Strange to wander behind the flats,
unravelling the clunky mechanisms of romance
as if we were up the magician's laden sleeve
or in a top-hat brimmed with fractious rabbits,
the trickery revealed and underwhelming.

I took a lethargic snap for some album
but suddenly it seemed so onerous to keep
this land of surface - and our affair – ticking over.
Out on the misty ebb of the now drab Vltava,
the composed gathered calm concealing the roil
of the swans' frantic engines couldn't put one over me.