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"get intimate with my uterus," she says and i'm slowly backing away towards the door, "because it's really about You and Us; it's true, there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it." i can't believe she's actually saying this, summoning post-feminist bumper-sticker wit, trying to draw me in with cheap vaginal advertising. she'd already knit a pink yarn uterus and airmailed it, enclosed a hand-written card in the package - "My heart pines for you,                                 &