drought

i haven’t wanted to write, which is a story in itself. i forgot how the desire is like a tide, low tide, high tide, raging river, gushing trickle, monsoon — drought. i am in a drought. i’d like to blame a million factors, like the sun burning all the life out of my little zen garden desert, but it’s not the sun. it’s me in this sand up to my neck trying not to choke on it. where did the water go? where did you go? are you coming back? rain, if it came, seems like it would be an answer. but lack of rain is not to blame for the drought. the sun is to blame. the sun, the source of life, myself. i took desire and made it into a drought. my specialty.