somewhere I have never been,
you have gone —
the eerie cave of dreamers
set free to roam
the mind’s nether lands.

my test diagrams
show flames leaping
from my forehead —
my interior territories scorched,
ironed flat, with flashing lights
& no trespassing signs.
even with a passport, I must
stand at the back fence
of lost desires.
a black trench dug
below to gather salt.

at the fence with fingers
woven into the chain link —
never thought I would wait
here, silently keening, prayers
etched into my hands.
it was a place for others — and,
someplace you have never been.

but, a place I have gone,
a reluctant traveler caught
in eerie exile —
& waiting,
waiting for you.

February 5, 2020

Carol Lynne Knight

Carol Lynne Knight is the co-director of Anhinga Press, where she designs covers and text, and edits books. She is the co-editor of Snakebird: Thirty Years of Anhinga Poets. She is the author of two book of poetry, A Fretted Terrain, Like Mars (Apalachee Press, 2020) and Quantum Entanglement (Apalachee Press, 2010). Her poetry has appeared in Another Chicago Magazine, Louisiana Literature, Tar River Review, Northwest Florida Review, Epicenter, Redactions, Iconoclast, Epicenter, HazMat, So to Speak, Down in the Dirt, Rivet and other journals. She is a winner of the Penumbra Poetry Prize. She lives in Tallahassee, Florida.

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