Wrecks.

It's not a romance with dinner and dance
But sex between two who met by chance
It's the perfect affair; casual, which is rare
Absurd, and laughably devil-may-care
With nothing to prove, no boundaries set.

By day we are wrecks, emotional wrecks
By night we share solemn hours of sex
Each inch caressed, your cries lost in my chest
It isn't much, but I guess it's the best
that either of us can afford to get.

Don't get me wrong, it's pleasant enough
You aren't conceited, or boring, or rough
And I'm glad - ever so glad - we met.
But I know one day there'll be nothing to say
and you'll put on your trousers and walk away
Back home again, not into the sunset.