The title is a pun: a "bookwormhole" is both a bookworm's tunnel and a wormhole, a shortcut to somewhere else. The poem opens with that idea of entering a book as if stepping through a doorway. But the speaker doesn't sound sure of the destination. "Where to be gone to" is an odd, slightly broken phrase, as though the speaker is more eager to leave than to arrive anywhere in particular.
The next lines turn to people. "Who among others to love / in their poor varnish" suggests that humans look a bit cheap or thin on the surface, coated in something that hides what's underneath, yet the speaker still wants to choose someone to love. The final line, "how to see at night," feels like a quiet worry about getting through the dark. Reading may be the light. Each of the three parts is a question without a question mark, so the mood is uncertain, tender, and a little lonely, but also curious.