Bitter Truth

The look on my face must be one of helpless vacancy.
Gullability.  An easy target.
I seem to convey a certain air of one who is absurdly naive,
A child eager to accept what she is told.
So please, feel free to lie to me.
Shift the truth left to right in front of my eyes,
Roll the details around on your tounge until masticated smoothly
That I may swallow the story easily.
And don't worry that the flavor may turn bitter in my stomach
When the truth is revealed.
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