By Ingvild Lothe - Apr 10, 2019
I washed my body, my hair, my hands,
removed the nail polish from my fingertips.
I shaved my armpits, my privates, my head,
scrubbed the shiny skull.
I washed away my mouth, my lips, my ability to speak,
everything I’d ever said.
I took out my contacts, pulled out my eyeballs,
everything I’d ever seen.
A clean slice across the middle,
and my skin slid off in every direction.
I pulled out my insides, rinsed them in the sink,
hung them up to dry on the balcony.
Small intestine, large intestine, rectum.
When I said I was an animal in bed
I meant a sloth
Sorry for the misunderstanding
I can’t bear the thought of any more men
Today I ate a whole pack of Läkerol and masturbated
I wish I lived a more decent life
with a husband and kid and Volvo and hedges,
but I’m unloved and broke, I keep my heart closed
It’s probably best for everyone involved
Translated from the Norwegian by Sherilyn Hellberg. From the poetry collection Why Am I so Sad When I’m so Cute? (Kolon 2016). Photograph by Siren Lauvdal.