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Jesus is Pink by Michelle Diaz

Jesus is Pink

He lives in the Christmas tree,
smells of Turkish delight
and sugared almonds.

I haven’t seen him, but I know he is in there –
the unmistakeable presence like fire on my cheeks,
Mum’s frown lines fading.

She knows he’s there too, transforms
in the fairy light glow that gives us space and magic,
a treat of unravelled tension.

Time to sing together.
Breathe.

.

 

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