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The Mind is a Sieve
By: C. McGuire

my sickness grows from a love turned sour
my spirit is naked and frost bitten in an arctic wind
snow blind love blind heart blind

my love is selfish
my love is not even tangible
jesus, what am I talking about?
am I ranting at the wind again?

as spiders crawl up my legs
like they own me

as crumbs fall and pile on the floor
as the neighbours hammer on the wall

there is not much to say.
there is only a kind of stirring
of the pot. flicking the words about.

making something out of nothing.
memories...memories...memories
they'll do, they'll live!

then the thought of that
thirty year old woman
from up North
as i seduce the woman
she seduces me
(don't tell her husband)
the heat of the passion was so mad
we just left our minds at the door
and welcomed our bodies into bed!

time cries in the rain
love makes warm lentil soup
memories build houses
eyes scratch out the bad images
the pearls in the shell rust
the diamonds lose their edge

my mind is a sieve
my thoughts
drop like rice.

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Article Source: http://journal.ilovephilosophy.com

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