With Pain
-after Audre Lorde
Speed as fast as one can, devour the miles
where soft land, dark sea meet, never, ever
look back to the shoreline is how we
evade it. The deep end of the pool where
gravity upends, one settles weightless,
becalmed is how we succumb to it. Bring
it finger food snacks, pastry dainties, pink
shrimp canapes, stuff its wide-open mouth
with its own tongue into choking, numb-blind
oblivion is how we deal with it.
Chant. Sing. Scream. Loud, rolling rumbles channeled
from stars, wind, lightning, the universe’s
bathe-bright lights that leave us cleansed, a moments
exaltation is how we transcend it.
Christa Fairbrother
Christa Fairbrother, MA, is a Florida-based writer living with chronic illnesses. She’s the author of the award-winning, Water Yoga (Singing Dragon, 2022) and poetry appearing in Of Poets and Poetry, The London Reader, and Young Ravens Literary Review. Find her at www.christafairbrotherwrites.com.