"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.