Written like a camera's click, the poem opens with "Focus. Flashlight. Snapshot." and then quickly turns bleak: life is unkind, people feel powerless, and there's "no escape." The speaker seems weighed down by that thought from the start.
The middle stanza looks back to childhood games of hide-and-seek, when kids stuck out their tongues and peeked when they were supposed to keep their eyes shut. It sounds playful and warm. The last stanza flips that picture. Now the eyes are shut when they should be open, and the tongues have "changed into fingers." Judging by the title and the imagery, this suggests people who once talked and played face to face now tap on screens, or look at the world through a lens instead of really seeing it.
The speaker feels nostalgic and a little sad. The "magical feeling" has faded, leaving hiding without seeking. The abrupt final word, "Cut," ends everything like a film scene, which leaves the mood flat and wistful.