Drip/Drip

I fuck her.
I fuck her to search in the corridors
Within me
Exploring my hole
My damp, moist whole.
Hollowed out by discontent
Of a life that on the outside seems together.
And so I search.
Snaking the dark recesses
Of personal knowledge where
Some answer of how I bound myself;
Restraint from freedom.
When my mind flashes her image
Invariably my cock becomes stiff
And with it
The trembles and shakes
As my body begins its own version of an earthquake.
Something has to give.
The heat and the tremors
Give impulsion to relieve the pressure
Of momentary insanity
Where nothing else matters
And all else is neglected
To curb the stress.
And I hunt her down to fuck.

Ignoring these sensations for a minute
What would become of me?
Would I break apart?
Fall into an abyss of despair?
When loneliness feels like an act of torture
Diving head first in your pussy
Seems about the best form of confrontation at the moment
What will I find there?
Resolution?
Bliss?
Unity?
I have not concretized a conclusion
But she redeems me.
If only for the day.