It’s 1:00 a.m. and my schoolwork isn’t complete,
but she beckons for me, calls for me.
I shake her away with great effort.
She will call me again, soon.

Finally finishing my foreboding tasks,
she calls again with her sweet seductive
voice. Her dark azure dress covering
all I can see. I yawn, ready to relinquish
myself to her compelling embrace.

As I get up from my desk, I decide
to prolong our meeting. Maybe,
get something for my aching stomach—
a light snack for a dark night.

Her call is voluble and austere.
I reassure her that I am following.
She guides me through dark hallways
and up the stairs with hands
of sedative complacency .

Lying there, my mind wanders, asking
redundant questions such as:
If I were to perish the next day
what impression would I have left?
She quickly removes these thoughts
with a tiring kiss on my forehead.

She pleas for me to surrender
because she is leaving soon, and she
wants to be the last thing I see
for the night.