Seduction of the Night

I took a walk on a night so dark that not even the owls that hovered above my shadowy form could see through the inky blackness. The night through which I walked was almost tangible. I could taste the shadows that surrounded me, feel the creaking of the branches that reached for me, and drink in the howling of the wind that chased me. All the while you were there, following me, presumably so that no harm would befall me. But no dangers threatened me on that darkest of nights. None but you. You with your feminine wiles, your dark secrets and your black magic, all the while seducing me, tempting me to follow in your footsteps, skim along in your wake. And did I refuse, as any sane man would? No. The seduction was full, complete. Even after you lashed out at me, in front of people, no less, and then proceeded to run away with the moon, even then I took the dark walks, knowing you’d be there with the absence of the light, feeding on the chill night air, covering me in a cloak of pure black that hides me even from the night itself, blocking out the cold, cruel wind and any other distraction from your beautiful, slinky figure, dancing, ever dancing in the moonless night. Always protecting, yet also imprisoning, the cloak of back holding me back, keeping me from dashing off into the darkness. Never again, I tell myself. Never again will I come for a walk such as this, with her here, following me, as if holding a leash. The midnight stroll ends and I return home, silently turning the key in its lock and ascending the stairwell to my room. Never again, I remind myself. But, as always, you return with vanishing of the light. And I answer your call, seductive and heavy with dark promises.