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 color 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 flavors 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
Merged
A never ending
Kiss
Yes
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.
.
Clarice Lispector, 1920–1977
© Clarice Lispector / “Untitled”
Photo by Olga Korolenko on Unsplash
