There is no dessert in the desert

the enso

"Just before the pregnant pause gives birth" by marlowe

the opinion

My Enso Muse went MIA around mid January. After several days, I searched the darkest, furthest corners of the kitchen pantry. I scoured closets. I peeked behind each dusty bookcase.

Nada.

I almost considered filing a Missing Person Report.

She left me a jar of cookies. Asked me not to despair.

In the meantime, I find myself wandering the house while cradling my pen and notepad. I continue to meditate dutifully. I fantasize that she will decide to return unannounced, like always, whether as a delicate surprise or …

I wait. I sit in my desert. There are no desserts here.