Communion You looked like a scuffed child-bride of Christ, a ghost in broderie anglaise, a new bangle on your play-bruised wrist, your nan’s crucifix stuck to the jam stain on your chest. It was hot as you posed for photos: boys pinching; girls hissing their secret wounds. What you remember is not the thorn-shaped burn … Continue reading ‘Communion’ by Kaddy Benyon