Tango

The dark was a friend
For their tango;
In the blankets
It would be bliss.
Silhouettes of two forms
Joined by passionate activity;
It was a fever
In their bones.
There was moaning
And a creaking of the bed;
A shout was the climax
The denoument was relaxing.
He rolled over and said
I love you;
Then he sighed deeply
And went to sleep.