bitterness at the polls

It is in every
Twitch, lie, conviction,

You feel it deep in your throat.
It pulls at your tongue
And lingers down your esophagus,
Not easily displaced.

You can’t help but
Sip it slowly, roll it ’round your mouth
Till your
Taste buds go numb.

(and you won’t notice)
you’ll be
slick with drool.

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