After the Party

It's almost dawn and far too late
to drink more wine or copulate -
and just as well, to know I can't
give 'Shall we?' smiles and find we shan't.

But why not stay? You have your stuff.
My bed is made, and wide enough
for two sad souls (if we are such)
to share its warmth; we need not touch

Or share our breath. Request denied:
tomorrow's golf, then 5-a-side.
I yield defeat, seatbelt unclips,
we kiss goodnight, avoiding lips.