my fancy way of saying writer's block

dust collected atop her hand
like a conquering ineptness
that taunts to scrape out
a flash point of some sort
It was a perennial happening
that she had to broach habitually
languidness was a part of it all
and like a bona fide poet
she vowed not to shirk from this impasse
her fly-by-night thoughts remain present
indestructibly untamed