the sacred and the profane
masquerade as one and the same
til distinguishing them is as vain
as conditioning medusa’s mane

every secret has become a broadcast
every defiance an addiction’s forecast
our predilection is to exalt all that cannot last
but that dance is saving the last dance for last

between the sacred and the profane
is nostalgia for we never were but may yet attain
for what we never were but dream may yet be again
for what we never were but hope desperately to remain

the white lie of human perception
the diplomacy of self-deception
the smog of our recollection
is what we refer to as our own perfection

but the sacred and the profane
are the lacquer glossing over all we disdain,
a band-aid on the shooting pain
of admitting we’re actually all kind of plain.