The Presuppositions of Glass

Porous homes,
diligent strongholds
where we hide our
gold in desired matter,

How deep beneath the doors
we lie, How hard
nature's rage to cause
eviction

Where does
sex happen
(and how often)

What do we love so
much about firm softness
of our beds, bodies,
fluorescent light,
ambient meadow-sounds
from the smallish
Brookstone stereo

Gently knocking,
morning light is
permitted through the
master bedroom window,

Where it tidies,
singing and humming
to itself so softly.