You must take notes and observe the orgasm carefully.
Once you have learned to recognize the orgasm, you will know that the orgasm abandons you only by enveloping you. (How small you become in such an expanse, my love.)
Sometimes the orgasm mistakes a nude buttocks for a loaf of bread and takes a swift bite from the soft flesh, leaving tiny teeth marks.
The orgasm can become more desirable in absentia . .
When the orgasm leaves for its annual seaside vacation, it rarely takes more than 7-8 days to return. During its absence, you feel as if water is filling your ears. At night you dream of whale songs.
Neither your family nor your culture gave birth to the orgasm. The orgasm comes from beyond and prefers to remain invisible, though sometimes it can be seen crawling across your skin like a small, red wave.
Few have ever witnessed the sudden and inexplicable flight of the orgasm.
The metaphor for your life? Getting stuck in city elevators, riding up and down for hours. The orgasm takes no responsibility for this.
Orgasms can never be replicated. Each is as unique as a fingerprint with its many whorls
Even now the orgasm is working in your life. A shadowy stranger, an afterimage of you, it leaves wet footprints on the tile floor. You must learn to distinguish which footprints are your own, and which are those of the orgasm.
The orgasm is your only hope. Even now, the orgasm is licking the surface of your tiny black heart.
-- N. A.
Nin Andrews is the author of The Book of Orgasms.
