The Left is Bruised: The Right is Bruised

“Turn the other cheek”; and I wrestle: a mental sore: a thorn
Of woes. Should we perish injustice: wailing faith? What is
This miracle: sheer perfection; but I swim with foxes; and
Fly with hawks; and I offend such foxes; and attack such
Hawks. What is this rapture: the jaws of sharks; and what is
This grief: despite the faith; and I lied, my love: I’m burning
Anger; and I died, my love, a hidden chamber; and so much
To face a broken smile: I think mercy; and wail: naivety; but
We lie to breathe; and we cry in silence; and we face injustice:
Wailing: Christ. As a child, we trekked the slums: and so many
Scars; and so many deaths. I’ve come to find—the mind of
Death— is universal; and we perish soft, the bass of life; and
We suffer harm: saving face; and such is love, a cycle rich; and
Such is pain: a turning cheek.