two chapters on an open page working their way away from each other
diverging into two threads the story goes in its own directions
from this point the sun looks back and forth over the word
fading imperceptibly the pages
the future is left out to disappear
the past is left over to vanish
from a distance the chapters unfurl as a single long page
the letters make thin unbroken lines like marching ants
their hills covered by overturned covers
the mystery unresolved is the title read backwards in gold
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