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Prelude

Robin Bacior

Way up high, the whole world was caught in hanging lights.
And there were tears in your eyes.
Through a breeze, we climb back its memory.
To the edge of a canyon, by a lying sun.
Now in a dome of neon, we wander.

Down on the canyon floor, it’s open sky.
But you are caught in visions of doors.
And my heart is wide, but I will not put you before.