the bruised porcelain inside of an oyster shell

Bitter almond, the seed inside the seed inside a jar, preserved in pale liquid; a melody of bioluminescence, light and song with no heat source or sound; briny sweet florals pulled under by the tide, sweetness with a mineral undertow, the bruised porcelain inside of an oyster shell; a lullaby from the uncanny valley, something soft and strange and gentle that loves you in a way you can't quite parse.