Re-aquiring abandoned skill
is inelegant, semi cardiac starts
forced to some obligate extent.
Misdirected, perhaps, as a track runner
struggling valiantly through dune sand.
Unless intentions betray,
the seeming zealous grit
a deliberate fumble?
The tongue tingles
Suffice to say, abstinence-dulled
ability
flaunts minimal satisfaction
stuffed with frustration and mediocrity
How else to un-corrode
temporal-induced rust?
Jump. Fall. Bleed, iron
The taste: an unpleasant necessity
for its own reduction.
It smarts and reviles
but most pivotal,
when will you tempt it again?
