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Beastly Cancer



I haven’t met cancer in person, only glanced her lair.

The entry is one you inch up to laying down,

a freezing cold doctor’s office,

grey paper-lined table, white-tiled ceiling.


She has more than one steward,

tech, doctor, shapeshifter with a well-worn impartiality;

friendly yet neutral tones request you disrobe for feeding.


Cancer prefers her victims at least partially nude,

wearing a drab, ill-fitting uniform,

sweetened with gels, tenderized with dyes.


When properly dressed, offered up

she may, or may not, appear to devour you;

her fickleness is part of her fearsome aura.


Once you’ve been selected for sacrifice

you’ll be proffered again and again – 

it’s only a matter of time.

CHRISTA FAIRBROTHER is a Florida-based author who lives with a chronic illness.

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