It is in the aftermath of sadism that I seek her. After the storm has passed, I can see beyond the rage of the moment, the sexual fever that clouds my judgment and loosens my grip on the world. I seek her for the calm she can provide me. I seek her for the cool water she pours on my face to lessen the heat of my skin.
She gives sight to my dilated eyes.
Yet even as the words flow from my lips and I feel the cool, healing breeze she brings with her, I still look over my hands, wrapped in glossy, onyx beads, and think of my next sin.
There are so many I have yet to commit.