It's the mind the mind

it craves the mountains
below a starlit
tear the sky as if it were a handkerchief
to see what's behind
the tulips bowed their heads
singing the sound of a guillotine
it's the mind the mind
that wants to see
what's inside
what's within
what's behind
a megalotelecopic infantile stupidity
equally insensitive to the result
of its own experiments

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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