For gabrielle

October 22, 2012
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I thought of bad luck
in the passenger seat
of your run-down Subaru.
You drove onto three curbs that night,
lost in the poignance of cigarette smoke.
We pulled up to the coast,
you shifted the gears with a dignified click.
The grey waves drifted in and out
as if it didn't matter
one way or the other.

You are the pieces in the sand
destined to be picked by some pale-eyed beachcomber
who will put you back together again.

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