Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash
by Kip Knott
You came to me when my eyes were closed, but it wasn’t a dream. Haven’t you ever closed your eyes, just for a moment, and seen a lifetime play out like a movie on the backside of your lids? If you haven’t, then I’m sorry. I don’t mean that I’m sorry for seeing you when my eyes were closed. I mean that I’m sorry if you haven’t been given the gift of that kind of sight. Because when I closed my eyes against the morning sun that glinted off your empty side of the bed, you came to me not as a dream, but as an alternative memory, the one where we never fell in love, the one where we never lived together, the one where we passed each other on the street, you walking toward me and me walking away.
Kip Knott is a writer and part-time art dealer from Ohio. His writing has recently appeared in Best Microfiction 2024 and The Wigleaf Top 50. His most recent book of poetry, A Mob of Kangaroos, is available from Ridge Books.
