The Last and Only Poem by Clarice Lispector / Untitled

Behind the bite of your badly trimmed beard

There is the sweetness of your tongue

My man

And behind the rugged callous hands on my bare skin

There is the languor of your soul

And the weight of your past years

The heavy load of your thousand lives

The blood of the dead and the lightness of drafts

I feel all this in you when you kiss me deep within me.


Your tongue plays with mine, with the practice of lovers from past life

Before pausing on the tiny red spot

Before the red colour of my lips

That is found on all corners of your naked body

Reminds me of wilted roses of

A thirsty summer

When I drank you

You drank me

Yes, there,

And then I drank all of you again.


And when I’m done drinking you, looking at you, kissing you,

When my eyes can not hope to look at you,

And that my hands will finally find what they were looking for

on the surface of your

skin and in the folds of your face,

When the taste of my mouth will end to unite with the taste of your mouth,

What will remain of our love, my love?


O mortal, do not ask such questions

The night granted to us by the gods is limitless

When you have consumed me

When you have tasted the bitter

And the salt, and sweet spots

Of my body

When I have seen your soul

Shimmering through your sheer, bare body

When the taste of our mouths has united

We will begin again, my love

For the taste of bodies, of souls

Change from night to night to night

Will you come, tonight, to taste the

New flavours of my body?


Will you take a little of me in you,

On you

Around you ?

And maybe we mix every night, every night, every morning

We will finally reproduce this mystical figure of the androgynous

This unique body

This unique soul

This eternal union of the material and the spiritual

For ever


A never ending




And Yes

And yes, my love

In this century

The art of merging

Bodies and soul

Matter and spirit

Dream and reality

This ancient alchemy of androgyny

Will be known

Only to us.


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