The Longest Selfie

They've been at it 
for the last fifteen 
minutes at least, 
and still going— 
two girls crossing 
and uncrossing  
their legs encased
in tights, leaning 
forward then back 
against the coated 
steel bench as a brisk 
wind teases their locks. 
The sun angles and they 
angle an arm away, 
the merest tilt 
of the phone.
Everything is 
angles. Everything 
is spontaneous 
but composed. Bent 
over the screen they 
check the images
just made; swipe
left on the screen, 
then right, then left,
deciding delete, delete,
delete. Just one more. 
There. Perfect.