The speaker lives in a room whose window is covered by a huge vinyl billboard of a red cocktail dress. Seen from the street, the speaker sits right behind the dress's left breast, a spot that is funny and a little uncomfortable. The comparison to a "blood fluke," a parasite, makes the speaker sound like something hidden inside a body, living off it quietly and without apology.
The tone is wry and oddly content. Instead of resenting the blocked view, the speaker finds something beautiful in it. When afternoon sun hits the vinyl at 3:00, red light floods the room and turns the day into "evening." The speaker opens the window to hear the material "crackle & hum," as if the dress were alive. The mood is intimate and playful, with a slight strangeness. An ordinary, commercial image becomes a private world, and the speaker seems to enjoy being tucked inside it.