I tried in too many ways
which crossed over one another as unsuccessful freeways,
leaving the cars
we didn’t know how to control
wrapped and ruined
around a telephone pole.
That was the end of phone conversations.
People die, after all, in several ways.
And I've managed to witness them.
I intended to be graceful,
with loss, with love
but look at me
wrapped thoroughly
around anything I can imagine.
Bent and jutting.
This is not grace.
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