Tantric Sex

I had sex in a tantrum;
it went on all night, the rage
of bad blood ululating
through the skeins of veins.
It came to blows,
landing one another with
haymakers, jabs, and one crunch
which put the lights out
and made one eye weep.
Once the referee entered
into the spirit of things, there
was no contest.
The bed took a pasting.
We pressed our gloves
together, like outsize kidneys,
and lay flat out, K.O., beaten
on the taut tarpaulin
of dream. We were spoiling
for another night.

From Robinson Crusoe's Bank Holiday Monday