The Blood of Christ (Poem)

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Gentle, like silk between the fingers

fragile like egg shells underfoot

broken and splayed out before us

this is the blood of Christ.

Crimson, the deep reds of fabric

clothing our nakedness,

warming us beneath a violent flood

this is the blood of Christ.

Flowing freely from His side

His hands and feet as well 

beneath a cross of wicked death

the source of life for all.

This is the blood of Christ.

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