Maturity

That we no longer live
to tear each other's clothes
off our mutually desperate bodies
means only we have calmed
the frantic desires of youth.

Or, more plainly, that we have aged.

So we are older. I still love your curl
into my shoulder, the twine
of your legs about mine.

That that sifts me more to sleep than sex
speaks more to contentment than desire,
which I luxuriate in,

locked in your arms.