Death

My surprising strategy to fend off fears of death – mine or others – is to feel my cock grow hard.

My body is reminding me I’m mortal, and my brain is responding in predictable, if unsettling, ways.

Sometimes all I want is to be hard — not to connect, not to come, but to counter a deadness deep within me with the undeniable sensation of being alive.

What if what I’ve always understood as infinite desire is actually infinite fear?