In this house
I can always tell
who is coming up the stairs
by the weight and velocity of their footfalls
Because of the creaky floors
I know when anyone is walking anywhere
Like a Marauder’s Map in my mind
The thin walls reveal
every conversation
personal noise in the bathroom
keyboard stroke
video game melody
piece of television dialogue
even when all the doors are closed
If I don’t want to hear all the details
of your life
I have to put on music
but then
you will hear
my music
Sometimes I sleep
just to claim some time
by myself
but even then I am not really
alone
There are certainly houses
smaller than ours
but ours is small enough
that there is no privacy
but plenty of intimacy
as I can hear you breathing
and I am thankful that
you are breathing
You Ask a Lot of Questions 
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