Was It Here I Disappeared?

I do not keep the last word, but writing keeps it for me. The last word? No: one which, rather, erodes all words from within – which attenuates, by stretching it beyond its limit and all limits, the possibility of preserving anything by writing.

*

'Was it here I disappeared?', he said. 'It was here you stopped disappearing. Here where your absence could no longer be hidden', said the day. – 'Was it here I lost my ability to write?' – 'Rather that that inability spoke of writing's inability; that your malaise became the malaise of writing, and it spoke, rather than you'.