The speaker starts with a quiet complaint: we only have so many everyday words and phrases, and they run out fast. Once the safe, numbing small talk is used up, what remains is stranger and harder to say. The poem then piles up paradoxes. Fate makes "quantum leaps," loneliness comes in "parallel worlds" and somehow is "polygamous," free will is "lock-step determinism," and free love gives only a "meaningless kiss." Each phrase pairs two ideas that pull against each other, which suggests the speaker feels trapped between freedom and inevitability, closeness and emptiness.
The ending turns personal. The speaker addresses a "you," and the unsaid things are as deep as that person's silence after the speaker has spoken. The poem suggests a conversation where something real has been confessed and met with quiet. The mood is wistful, uneasy, and a little cerebral, as if the speaker is reaching for connection with language that keeps falling short.