strangers (3)

silent sweep the lights of our reflections
on the bruised blue river, morning
river, stranger river cut
by doppler sorrow and iron fear
stranger in my sheets, neighbor
river- oh, your body
is my country. expatriated i speak
the language with my thumb pressed
into your palm when the white noise
night noise is too crowded
with urban business. confess!
wordless, i kneel at the altar again, tourist
of holy temples and leave my gifts of bone and blood.