Intimate Strangers

The earth opened her mouth like a maiden
Defiled, a whore,
And caught between her crack
Whatever he spilt and I did not catch; peering up trunks
With her hungry eyes to watch our hands
Play those little games that intimate strangers play in the shadows,
Well aware of those darting glances that flash more than a couple
Of times, raising questions over hidden kisses.
I remembered how once one of them told me
How he'd come every so often after work
To relax,
And how the way he said it
Brought the word "refuge" into my mind,
Making for me a sanctuary of these alleys, a temple,
So filled with faithful believers who come
Fervently worshiping a symbol of what they seek,
These streets, where prayers are answered and gods are made
And the sins of goddesses forgiven;
Yet some stood alone like a shadow in the dark
While my little Greek god and I shared in an unholy Eucharist,
Too fat, too old, too Indian,
Watching like a visiting pastor.