do adventures call for such love?

we laid beside each other,
in a foreign bed,
in a room that's been visited
by many traveling hippie folk.
we finally made it into bed
after a seemingly endless night
of psychedelics, our heads throbbing.
i wanted to feel his warmth
and allow this moment to become of us,
whatever our minds could venture.
the need for sleep seemed uncertain,
though i delighted at stillness.
he was hesitant,
his body dancing through immense change.
i could feel the different stages of his growth
becoming all at once,
sometimes of a hand motion,
or an irregular lung,
perhaps a few heart spasms.
i wanted to be still for once,
and he wanted to be unsettled.
all i could think of was the empty bed
on the opposite side of the room.
there is calm there.
should i venture alone to the other bed?
do adventures call for such love?