Procrastination

Every day when I return to my little room, bearing the remnants of the day's load, she awaits me therein.

And when I come to sit on my bed, wishing brief respite from the endless chores, she comes to sit alongside me.

Her touch was the caress of the shifting breeze, and her voice the faint whisper of noctornal song.
Her shimmering hair was the silver rain that bathes me, in ripples of pleasant chill refreshes me,
And her breath was the fragrance of the washed earth.
And her eyes, always the depthless velvet of night, draws mine into its swirling embrace of passion.

Her unfolding hands beckon like a dove, bearing the promise of flight, of limitlessness and infinity.

"Come with me" She says, as always "Release your burden, the weight that leaves you earthbound, and come with me.
"Come dance with me the steps of lightness, of simple, thoughtless uncertainty.
"Come and sing to the rhythm of your desires. Come and lose yourself in the enigmatic grace of the night
"Come with me and take flight, love, unto luna's radiant silver take flight."

So sweet her voice, so tempting her call. So wondrous the fluttering thought of her seduction.

And yet I fight her, though not knowing why. Steel upon steel, my will against her magic.

And this night, it is obvious who claimed the victor.