After they had not made love
she pulled the sheet up over her eyes
until he was buttoning his shirt:
not shyness for their bodies—those
they had willingly displayed—but a frail
endeavour to apologise.

Later, though, drawn together by
a distaste for such “untidy ends”
they agreed to meet again; whereupon
they giggled, reminisced, held hands
as though what they had made was love—
and not that happier outcome—friends.