When I fumble I will try and hide it. I will spit it out into bottles or try to bury it. But as I bury things you will start to resurface them. And I will grab them frantically, I will stuff them in my ears and under my tongue and when you turn to me I will be deaf and mute. But you keep digging digging digging. and I will flake and I will peel and I will cry. I will accuse you of rape. No, you say, those who keep trying get the pearl. And then you start to find and I vomit.I keep everything stacked up in my ribcage and it starts to fall out like books off of shelves, and I am heaving and you are triumphant and you smile.And I will let you take what you've spilled.

Aesthetically pleasing

Thick and humid, jungle growing.

I wish I knew who did these, I love them.