{"id":2919,"date":"2018-03-15T09:00:06","date_gmt":"2018-03-15T09:00:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wp.lancs.ac.uk\/translatingpain\/?p=2919"},"modified":"2018-03-29T22:54:39","modified_gmt":"2018-03-29T22:54:39","slug":"first-and-last","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/wp.lancs.ac.uk\/translatingpain\/2018\/03\/15\/first-and-last\/","title":{"rendered":"‘First and Last’, by\u00a0Michele Leavitt"},"content":{"rendered":"

If pleasure is the absence of pain,\u00a0<\/span>
\n then pain comes first.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the planter outside my front door,\u00a0<\/span>
\n a wren\u2019s nest whorls down\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

to darkness. The nestlings chirr when I pass by,\u00a0<\/span>
\n or when the wind\u2019s fingers brush too close,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

as if the wind and I are mothers,\u00a0<\/span>
\n returning with meat, as if refreshed<\/span><\/p>\n

sensation means relief from pain,\u00a0<\/span>
\n meaning pain comes last \u2013\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

like a shadow, sleek and well-fed,\u00a0<\/span>
\n or a body\u2019s imprint in the bed.\u00a0<\/span>
\n I grow to love you, dear familiar.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n