The Smell of a Dryad?

 Oh,

sepulcher of scents.

You hold them in

like a grandma with gas.

The only one that gets a V.I.P pass.


You are now obsolete.

Why bother with you

when they can just

plug in some plastic? 

I, for one, am not glad.

I liked it better when you 

smelled like a dryad. 


Febreeze. 

Microscopic sneeze. 

Arthritic knees. 

God dammit, 

who else cut the cheese?

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