Inflamed

Thoughts of you
Beat the prison of my mind
Like throngs of woodpeckers
with steel-dipped beaks
Have to slam you out
Only for you to smile at me knowingly
taunting my frantic grasp for peace.
This decision to leave without ever
feeling the scorch of your tongue
slide
like a fevered whisper on the inside
haunts me
For I know I will yearn
despite my wretched resistance
to slake the desert of my mouth
on the charge of you