An orgasm is like a squat cartoon woman yelling “bippity-boppity-boo” at your genitals and then they feel like a glittery pumpkin.

Like a rattlesnake dancing inside your nether bits.

An orgasm is like getting your head cut off, but the chainsaw is covered in Molly.

As the French call it, “the little lunch.”

That thing where your leg sorta starts twitching for no reason and you’re scared but also it tickles and you can’t really stand on it? Like that.

Champagne Jello?

A secret.

Like when you turn your head too fast and a shooting pain goes up the side of your skull but you have to keep sitting still because the lady blowing out your hair isn’t done yet, but good.

Maybe like peeing.

Light as a feather, stiff as a board.

That dream where you’re a mermaid and can do somersaults underwater.

Like a bath, but also like a breeze? Sure.

A wave of, something, surely, cresting around your…umm, hmm.

Okay definitely like peeing but you’ve been drinking pure gold and holding it in for four days.

Sleeping but awake.

WhooooooooOOOoooaaaaaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaa.

Getting your hair washed at the salon.