Spring , sprung in the works .

Near the edge , a mnemonic , a string tied 'round the finger ,
A phrase out of place hung fine and mossy
On the tip of my tongue … maybe a bug flew in my mouth .
Spit it out , this irksome drudgery , this paralyzing agony .
So speak it , lips … or omit the thought ,
The drawn blank , cat gotten tongue ,
Some foolish pause , a moment in time amplified twofold
And lost .