...is a fan (for all you female poets out there) of the Emily Dickinson sanitary napkin...they are slender and pale with an autumnal scent of Amherst coating the interior lush of your loins and you will never need to leave the contours of your writing desk (or yer home) ever again...hell, people won't even discern you are wearing one until YEARS after yer unsuspecting and romantically reclusive de...mise....so for the modern feminine poet who cannot possibly stop for the excessive grammatical dash of death and whose heart is already bleeding over some priest's cavalier civility, manacle a box supply of Emily Dickinson sanitary napkins to your writing desk for the next 30-40 years because, (after all, ahem) "After a great pain, a formal feeling comes...."
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