Worms

A photograph of us
tucked into an old paperback.

We took the book to Rome
long ago.

I left it on a bus.

Most likely
it has been destroyed,
by riffling thumbprints.
Paper rots,
the bus recycled into,
spoons and helmets.

The book was once
a romantic novel,
now it’s a ghost story.

Book worms rewrite history -
a very natural process.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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