After Love - Maxine Kumin



              Afterwards, the compromise.
              Bodies resume their boundaries.

              These legs, for instance, mine.
              Your arms take you back in.

              Spoons of our fingers, lips
              admit their ownership.

              The bedding yawns, a door
              blows aimlessly ajar

              and overhead, a plane
              singsongs coming down.

              Nothing is changed, except
              there was a moment, when

              the wold, the mongering wolf
              who stands outside the self

              lay lightly down, and slept. 1