what to do, what to do, what to do

when genius raves in the streets

face to face with the lifted veil

communing

don’t tell me it makes no sense 

for a prophet to speak to God

in whatever temple they can find her

overgrown, cracked cement

full of light like the stars fell to dance in smoke

and cast shadows already weary of two dimensions

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Check out some poetry from Denver’s local poets at thepoets.co

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Photo by Zhu Liang on Unsplash