Blindfolded Love Is A Game Of Chess

Blindfolded Love Is A Game Of Chess, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.

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I accidentally at Facbook fell in love with a transvestite from Lahore
she was a poet a commercial worker a socialite whore I gave her an inch she asked for more I deactivated my account from her life I am no more
I shut the door ..she might stalk me follow me on Google + a thought I cant ignore ...fire brimstone blood and gore ..a whore is a whore is a whore .. the curtains come down the crowds shout encore ....


she says no
i say yes
although
she has
deleted me
from her fucked
consciousness
the recycling bin
of my poetry mind
my thoughts
my pain
belong to her
including
all that
i possess
a man
who enticed me
in a womans dress
the transvestites tale
continues with no success
her voluptuous mouth
her hunger her thirst
her caress
even in solitary silence
i cannot express
on the other side
of the border
dark side of the moon
her fucked address
a pain humiliating my
soul in distress
unless ...
words i hold back
you can guess
blindfolded love
is the worst
for a street poet
i must confess
a fucked love
on hire purchase
sweet poison
in excess
androgynous angst
of a transvestite
my life has messed

overheard

loved by a transvestite
poet your poetry
has been blessed