Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jesus? Perhaps that's why we clashed.

paul c

He fell without landing, and floated up towards the stars.

conflict

The village weeps while the men grow fewer in number.

He is smooth, silk, enigma. She remains shy and single.

smoking

It curls down my lungs: pacifying, pleasing me to death.

the rapture

Clouds open. Jesus descends, takes the whole family, except me.