Portrait of the Young Girl as an Artist - Jenny Hval

Not all limbs have erections

Sometimes even you have to decide

Which is up and which is down

Which travels and which is stationary

Which travels to stations and which travels aimlessly

And whether desire can perhaps best be described

As a train running into a tunnel

Take your platform hands and run, I said

Between train track: thighs

Not all limbs have erections

Sometimes even you have to decide

Which is up and which is down

Which travels and which is stationary

Which travels to stations and which travels aimlessly

And whether desire can perhaps best be described

As a train running into a tunnel

Take your platform hands and run, I said

Isn’t monotonous?

Isn’t it monochromous?

But there’s a light!

Do you see it?

It shines from the hole through your hand

And how did I get here?

To the hand!

I say: the body is one-way street

And the bodies, like your fingers, bend only inwards

Not all limbs have erections

Some curl inwards

And some have braces!

Those train track braces!

Embraces!