Down current by Kelly Erin Gray

They’re combing back creed beds
for what remains, draining out depths

like a bath tub scene: blood in the water,
silt in the wound. The more the sun cuts

through the surface, the more the ground
lifts up and loses itself in the current.

I think I’m drifting now too, the way
that rivers run, downstream of all

things. If I had a net, I’d catch us both.
If I had a million coins, I’d toss them all.

But all I have is this feeling that won’t
leave me like you did. When I find you

at last, it’s as a lost persons’ poster child
with the face of a man who never was.

Like I made you up in code or dream.
Who are you when I’m not looking?

And who are you when I am?
Down current, or maybe just down.