Oh, you sweet hypocrisy,
I watch you dance with those kind souls
who know best there is no good,
no god and satan is a joke. I watch
you sing, dear hypocrisy, like the morning
wren unable to fly above the bitter cold
Rectitude is the uncracked egg, my darling
hypocrite. The unclouded sky that hides
the stars and moon, the everything
else we might see.
Fear not, my beloved hypocrisy,
I will hold you close and be so blind
for you. And I will embrace each hypocrite
as if they, in their murderous self-delusions,
become my kin with every desolate breath.
Oh how I love you, hypocrisy,
the pale flesh of certainty ready for my tongue
the moaned lies of eternity, where we are
always only mortal. Yes, I love you,
and dare to make you mine.