between the shadow and the soul
I am a New England native. The hills, trees, and the red brick soiled by time and memory have called me back home from my time among the the desert mountains and neon.
Let your knuckles
bleed a bit from
the punches against
the wall.
Smear the blood across
your forehead
as you wipe away
the sweat, the salt
stinging the scrapes.
Feel it.
Feel the pain.
Heart ache is just so.
by Dan Labrecque
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