Drifted with the salmon;
downstream. Drifted in the river of the runaways.

Drifted toward the pink sheets,
toward the blues, toward the sea.

And then we found her in masked face,
in the foliage.
Found her in the shallow ruins.

You rolled her out and up from the dark.
It wasn't long before you fell to your knees,
and while you wept, you lost sight of everything.

I've never been sure if you noticed that I had gone.
I danced downstream, a slow tango.