A worm burrows down through my mind
Sinking, sliding as though it were a grain of sand
Rolling, trickling through a miserly hand.
And let the creature slip
Like a creature fugitive from
Law and life looking for
Some hideout
Almost level to the ground.
It moves hermetically,
Resigned to travel:
Destination its destiny,
Lodged beyond the vision of town
No transportation has ever reached
Or would ever hope to keep a count.
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