“the fulfilled lover has no need to write”
-Roland Barthes
not a want but a need
like air or water
the drive to write
to spell oneself
into the book
to conjure each
tick mark upon
a page to account
the sum of what
could be extant
beyond memory
which is itself
a desire
for the occult
of what was
forgotten
in the words
we spoke
to each other
that last day
(February 12, 2015)
subtext 