Love, is knowing every one of your facebook posts as if they were my own,
Or is that called stalking?
Love, is all the places we've gone my mind,
Or is that called dementia?

Every picture, is fuel for the emotional time bomb,
Ticking in my chest, threatening catastrophic effusion.
And how can you save me?
If you don't know that you're killing me?

I visit your profile, I flirt with the risk.
The temptation is too hard to resist.


© Deneka Thomas . All rights reserved

Your touch, supernovas to my skin,
Your palms, assassins trained to ****.
Finger tips, leaving tattoos in their wake
Loving you, a risk I am willing to take...
Mercy me.


© Deneka Thomas . All rights reserved

every summer, your freckles come out like a broad Irish galaxy.
the planets are summer days that I wish I could waste with you.
and there is a star for every single dance I wish I'd have had with you.
an asteroid belt of insults and haphazard tweets.
but I slide on, a lonely astronaut,
skimming your freckled universe.