"I’m not territorial, generally
But you‘re encroaching.
We’re not snuggling or spooning,
It’s hot, I’m not in the mood anymore.
Yes, I know that was fun
But after sex you've begun
To overspill the banks
And I’m happy drying off for a bit."
“But it’s good to cuddle after intercourse”
A long breath and a pause
(Can he never say ‘sex’?) “Yes it is.
But I’d rather not, not even talk”
“That’s a bit cold”
“It is?”
‘Yes,
You wanted me before, so much
In side your life,
And you put up the walls
For days after”“I do?”
“You do and you never speak,
Like you’re ashamed to know I exist, 
We exist”
“Aren’t we just ‘having fun’? That’s what you said,
That’s what we agreed.”
“But what if I want more, it’s been months
And we’ve been os
As mates, you said
And weren’t they a laugh?
Don’t you want to laugh as much 
All the time?
Only when it gets “maybe more” you strengthen the dam,
Suggest separate duvets on this big bed”
“They’re easier to wash”
“Come here, let me in “
And as he pulls me closer
His giant gentle hand
On the tiny sparrow in my chest
We sleep.