Flaw Salad

A swell and an ancient drumbeat. A calling to some unknown wilderness. A depth of feeling, trapped beneath calloused layers, roiling now. Legs strong, shoulders back. You watch the placid reflection, unwavering as ache pounds. Desperate rhythm on stony veneer. A flush of the cheeks, the threat of a break. Move those feet and carry yourself away. Forward, forward until the feeling subsides. Nothing below must rise.